


Silver Linings

by aceAdoxography



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Child Abuse, Coming In Pants, Dirk Strider and Dave's Bro Aren't the Same Person, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Masturbation, Pack Dynamics, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmates, background rosemary - Freeform, but like werewolf soulmates, not between dave and karkat, some body horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceAdoxography/pseuds/aceAdoxography
Summary: While hunting a ghoul in his pack’s territory, Karkat catches the scent of his Mate, sickly and weak but unmistakable. He follows it and finds Dave, about to be devoured. After Karkat saves Dave, he and his pack discover that Dave is wearing silver bracelets, and that he’s terrified of werewolves—despite being one.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 95
Kudos: 294
Collections: Dave "Cums His Pants" Strider





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllDaveKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllDaveKat/gifts).



> Davekat in 2020? it's more likely than you think. This started as an idea for the homestuck writers' server tag alchemy theme but snowballed quickly. Join here if you're interested: https://discord.gg/tmtGNqe
> 
> Some warnings: Dave hasn't had a good life in this fic. I've been told that some scenes are pretty graphic. Take care of yourselves.

Karkat Vantas is in a highly pissy mood. That’s not particularly unusual, but it’s been magnified considerably by the fact that this week has been exceptionally shitty. He’s spent the past three days combing the forest that borders their land with Nepeta by his side, searching for a ghoul that stupidly invaded their territory and has been attacking humans left and right.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem; Karkat’s hunted down other invaders and sent them running with their tails between their legs, sometimes literally, with the weight of his pack behind him. But this ghoul is slippery. He hasn’t been able to catch its scent anywhere, even at the scene of its attacks.

The others have been needling him about it. He’s the next in line to take over the Alpha title and the powers and responsibilities that come with it, and he can’t track down a simple ghoul? None of the others have, either, but that fact is lost on them. Even Terezi hasn’t been able to catch a scent, which is weird as fuck, honestly.

“Lighten up, Karkitty!” Nepeta says, grinning widely. “We get to enjoy all this nice fresh air and we get out of cleaning duty!”

Karkat grunts in response and Nepeta pouts at him. 

“I’ve had enough fresh air,” he grouches, swatting aside a tree branch. “I’d rather do dishes by myself and be able to read my book than be traipsing out here like a bunch of idiot hikers who got lost because they can’t follow the fucking trail.”

Nepeta rolls her eyes and bumps his shoulder--or rather, she tries to, but she’s too short to reach. “That’s _a lot_ of dishes to do on your own.”

She’s right, of course. Their pack is huge and they eat like crazy. But Karkat likes to bitch, and he’ll be damned if logic gets in his way.

He opens his mouth to reply when he smells… something. Not the ghoul, certainly. Those smell foul, like rotting flesh and decay. This scent is something else. Something wonderful, but weak and tainted with sickness.

“Karkat?” Nepeta asks, but her voice sounds far away.

“Do you smell that?” he asks, pivoting on his heel and heading towards the scent. It’s getting stronger, and he can smell desperation and fear in it. Something in him urges him on quicker. He’s making a racket, moving through the trees with branches whipping at his face and sticks crunching under his feet. Whatever he’s heading towards will know he’s coming but he can’t bring himself to care.

He pushes through a thicket of branches and finds himself in a small clearing, the scent so strong it’s overwhelming. He stops in his tracks, Nepeta smacking into his back. 

There’s a boy on his back, arms out to fend off the ghoul—still scentless—drooling above him, mouth a gaping hole. He’s struggling, and it’s obvious, and the ghoul is going to eat him unless—

Karkat moves without thinking, launching himself across the clearing, ripping the ghoul away from the boy with a deafening roar. Nepeta jumps into action as well, teeth elongating and nails turning into claws that sink deep into the white, fleshy shoulder of the ghoul.

Karkat stalks forward. The ghoul tosses Nepeta off and screeches. It hurts his ears but he doesn’t stop, throwing himself at the ghoul and running his claws through its neck. He draws back and does it again, and again. Nepeta joins in, grabbing its head and giving a heaving tug until the ghoul’s head is ripped from its body.

A necklace falls to the ground without a neck to hold on to and suddenly the rotting smell of the ghoul is revealed. Huh. Must have been enchanted. 

Karkat turns back to the boy, still on the ground, wide red eyes staring up at him with fear. The smell of the ghoul clears his head enough that he can consider what he looks like, hands covered in black, viscous blood and fangs out. He wills his transformation back under control and takes a slow, cautious step towards the boy.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, using the calm Alpha voice he’s been practicing. It’s a work in progress but it’s better than before. “You’re safe now.”

The boy doesn’t move back or try to run, and as Karkat gets closer it’s obvious that he’s where the confusing scent is coming from. It’s clearly wolf, but when Karkat flashes his eyes at him he doesn’t get an answering flash, just a slight tightening of his jaw.

“Are you hurt?” He asks. He’s close enough now that he can offer the boy a hand, which he does after wiping it on his pants. 

The boy hesitates, then accepts his hand, and when he stands up Karkat realizes that he isn’t a boy at all, but a young man. Maybe only a little younger than Karkat himself. He’s tall but skinny as fuck, and has scars on his face. They must have been there before he Turned.

Up close he smells better and worse. The sweet, alluring scent Karkat smelled is so much stronger but there’s sickness woven into it. It doesn’t make sense; werewolves have healing abilities. He shouldn’t be _able_ to get sick.

“What’s your name?” Karkat tries again, when he doesn’t get an answer. The other wolf is staring at him with wide, round eyes. Karkat realizes they’re still holding hands and pulls back with a frown, which seems to jolt him out of whatever daze he was in.

“I’m Dave,” he says. He reaches a hand up and runs it through his white-blond hair. His hand is shaking. There are scars on that, too. “I’m… not hurt.”

Karkat nods, unable to take his eyes off of him. “Good.”

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, but he wants to bury his nose into this new wolf’s neck, breathe him in until it’s all he knows. Even if that was a good idea—which it is _not_ —he couldn’t. Dave is wearing some kind of thick leather choker around his neck. It matches the ones on his wrists, too.

“Do you have a pack? Are you lost?” Nepeta pipes up, and Karkat startles. He’d completely forgotten she was here. 

“I—no, I don’t—I don’t have a pack. My Bro, h-he—” Dave stutters out. He’s clearly upset and protectiveness surges up through Karkat.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk about this later,” he says, wrapping his arm around Dave’s back. He’s trembling. He wonders if the ghoul killed his brother, what Dave is doing out here all alone. 

Nepeta gives him a weird look as he leads Dave to the edge of the clearing but he ignores it. The adrenaline is running out and Dave looks like he’s about to fall over; of course Karkat is going to offer support. And if his scent mingles with Dave’s in the process, well, that’s just an unintended side-effect.

“Wait!” Dave stiffens, stopping suddenly. “My shades!”

His distress is palpable and a comforting rumble starts up in Karkat’s chest. He looks at Nepeta, who is staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Grab his shades,” he tells her. “And the necklace. Aradia can take a look at it.”

“Uh… Karkat, I think—”

A warning growl escapes him and they both freeze. Dave's trembling increases. What the fuck is wrong with him? Did he just growl at _Nepeta_? She’s practically already his second in command. They stare at each other for a long moment, until sudden understanding passes over Nepeta’s face and she nods, turning back to the clearing.

“She’ll find it,” he assures Dave, pushing him forward gently until they’re moving again. It takes a few minutes of silence, his head spinning, to come to the same conclusion Nepeta must have.

Holy shit. Is this wolf—Is Dave his _Mate_? It would explain why he smells so fucking good, why Karkat feels so damn eager to protect him despite Dave not being pack. Why there’s a niggling voice in the back of his head whispering _mine_.

Dave sways, leaning his weight into Karkat and Karkat swallows hard. Mates—these kind of Mates, where it’s magnetic and instinctive and overwhelming—are rare. And treasured. Karkat’s been dreaming about something like this since he was a child, but he never expected it to happen. Not to him.

“Where are we going?” Dave asks finally. His voice is rough, and it sounds like each word hurts. Karkat frowns. The ghoul hadn’t gotten to his throat, as far as Karkat could tell, but they’d arrived late.

“To my house,” he says. “We can help you.”

He’s not sure what they’ll be helping him _with_. Dave said he isn’t hurt, but his scent says otherwise. He’s ill and clearly malnourished, and he said he doesn’t have a pack and he’s Karkat’s _Mate_ , holy fuck they’re _Mates_.

It’s a long walk back to the house, made longer still by Dave’s slow movements. A pit of worry opens in Karkat’s stomach. He didn’t know werewolves could get sick, not like this. The longer they walk the more of Dave’s weight he takes on. He heard Nepeta pass them a while ago, likely to warn the pack ahead of time. 

His theory is proven right when, once the house comes into view, he sees a gaggle of werewolves on the porch, watching curiously. Even Sollux has dragged himself away from his computer to gawk. None of the older generation of wolves are around, though. It’s summer, so while most of his friends are home from school and free to laze around the house, the older wolves are busy at work.

Except the Alpha, whose full-time job is managing the pack. And yet. 

“Where’s my dad?” he snaps at them. 

“He had something to do in town,” Nepeta says, stepping forward and shooing the rest of the wolves aside so Karkat can help Dave through the door. There’s a stark scent of fear coming from him, which makes Karkat unsettled. “I already called him. And my mom’s on her way.” She looks at Dave and says, “she’s the pack doctor.”

“Of course he did,” Karkat grumbles. He owes Nepeta an apology and a thanks, but he’s not in the right mindset for that right now. He nods at her and she smiles.

He leads Dave into the living room and deposits him onto the couch. His packmates hover by the doorway, peeking in because they have no concept of privacy. Karkat’s about to tell them the fuck off when Terezi pipes up with, “I smell silver.”

Karkat frowns. Why the fuck would she be smelling silver? Dave shifts on the couch guiltily.

“Yeah that’s… probably my fault,” he says, which sets his packmates growling. Dave flinches back and Karkat steps in front of him, crossing his arms.

“Shut the fuck up,” he orders, and the Alpha voice he uses startles them into silence. It’s not something he uses often. He turns his back to them, looking at Dave. “What do you mean?”

Dave holds up his hands, gesturing to his thick leather bracelets and then pointing at the one on his neck. “I’ve got some on my ankles, too. They’re lined with silver.”

Karkat recoils in horror, and hears his packmates do the same.

“What the _fuck?!_ WHY?”

Dave stares at him with his disarming red gaze. “To keep myself under control. Y’know, so I don’t hurt anyone.”

He sounds so fucking genuine it breaks Karkat’s heart. Jesus christ, what the fuck has he been through that he thinks _poisoning_ himself is the path to control?

Karkat glances back at Nepeta, who gets his meaning and ushers his packmates away. They’ll probably still be eavesdropping, because they’re a nosy bunch of assholes, but at least it gives the illusion of privacy. And Dave seems to relax slightly as they leave. 

Karkat sighs, sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch so he can look Dave in the eye. He has no fucking clue what he’s doing, and it’s probably a better idea to wait for his dad and the doctor to show up before asking questions, but this is his Mate. 

He’s got hollow cheeks and scars running across his face, light hair and red eyes and pale lips. A haircut that looks like it used to be douchey before it grew out and he hasn’t bothered keeping up with it. He smells wonderful and sick and afraid. He flinches and avoids eye contact and needs help walking a few miles because he’s been poisoning himself, willfully, for who knows how long. And Karkat thinks he might love him already.

What has he gotten himself into?

“How long have you been wearing… _those_?” He can’t keep the venom out of his voice or stop the way his lip curls. 

He wants to reach forward and rip the silver-lined torture devices off, but he doesn’t think Dave would respond well to that. Dave doesn’t even respond well to the question, though that might be because of Karkat’s tone. He takes a breath and tries to calm down.

“Uh.. I dunno, about a month after I was bit, I guess?” Dave says, one hand rubbing the leather band at his neck. Karkat can’t imagine how much it must hurt. Fuck, is that the reason his voice sounds like that? “My Bro got them for me so I wouldn’t be a danger.”

Karkat grits his teeth. Everything he’s hearing makes him want to rage. Dave can tell, can probably smell the anger coming off of him, because he shrinks back into the couch and eyes the exit. Fuck.

“You aren’t a danger,” Karkat tells him seriously. “My dad would be better to talk to about control. Whenever the fuck he gets here. When were you Turned?”

“Uhh…” Dave says. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “Four years ago?”

Four _years_? Holy shit. Karkat closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them he stands up. He starts pacing the room, agitated. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Dave asks warily. Karkat stops, leans against the wall, and stares at him.

Is he okay? Is _he_ okay? What the fuck is he gonna do with this guy?

“I’m Karkat,” he says instead of answering. “I don’t think I introduced myself before. The girl who was with me is Nepeta.”

Dave nods but doesn’t say anything else. A tense silence settles over them. It drives Karkat mad. Meeting your Mate is supposed to be something wonderful, something amazing. Even from across the room Karkat can smell Dave’s scent, heavy and intoxicating and _hurting_ , and it makes him want to break into teeth and claws and rip apart what’s making his Mate feel that way.

It’s not gonna be that easy with Dave, though. Karkat can tell.

“How many werewolves do you have here?” Dave finally asks, hesitantly, like he doesn’t really want to know the answer.

“Right now probably 7 or 8,” Karkat says. “We have about 10 people who actually live in the house, but others come and go. It’s fucking impossible to get some peace and quiet around here unless you hide in your room because there’s always some asshole making a mess or stirring up bullshit drama that I inevitably get dragged into.”

Dave stares at him and Karkat flushes. “I talk a lot. You’ll get used to it.”

That implies that Dave is going to stay. Karkat hopes he does; doesn’t know what he’ll do if his Mate wants to leave. He doesn’t know shit about Dave, though. They’ve only known each other about two hours and all Karkat knows is that someone—maybe this Bro, maybe someone else—seriously fucked up Dave’s head, made him think he’s dangerous, made him hurt himself.

Fuck. _Fuck_. What is he gonna do if Dave wants to leave? He can’t make him stay and turn their house into some kind of prison. 

He’ll just have to make Dave want to stay. Somehow.

Finally, _finally_ he hears the telling rumble of his father’s car, far away but getting closer. Relief crashes down on him. His dad will know what to do. He uses his shoulders to push away from the wall and heads to the window, tapping his foot impatiently.

“My dad’s almost here,” he tells Dave. “He’s the Alpha, he’ll be able to help you.”

“The Alpha?” Dave squeaks.

Karkat turns to look at him, frowning. He’s sitting ramrod straight, looking between the door and Karkat like he’s judging who would be faster. God fucking dammit, there Karkat goes scaring him again.

“He won’t hurt you,” he says. “You’re not here because of some territory dispute. You need help, and we help people. Besides, you’re...” _my Mate_ , Karkat doesn’t say, because he still almost can’t believe it. Instead he shrugs.

Now Dave looks at him like he’s crazy, like he’s said the very last thing Dave ever expected to hear. He doesn’t look comforted at all, but at least the wild panic has slightly disappeared from his eyes. 

His Dad’s car rolls up to a stop in front of the house. Karkat watches as he gets out, a broad man with curly dark hair greying at the temples. Karkat definitely takes after his father. His dad sees him at the window and jerks his head pointedly, so Karkat goes to meet him at the door.

“I’ll be right back, just going to talk to my dad,” he tells Dave as he walks out. He immediately wants to walk right back in, anxiety and protectiveness flaring up inside him. Christ, it’s gonna be like this for awhile, at least until they’re bonded or Dave’s healed. Or he leaves, but Karkat pointedly doesn’t think about that.

He gets to the door as his dad opens it. He takes a single look at Karkat’s drawn, tense face and pulls him into a hug.

“Nepeta says she thinks he’s your M--” 

He cuts off his dad’s low voice with an affirmative grunt, nodding into his shoulder and breathing in the familiar scent of _Alpha dad pack safety_.

“He’s hurt,” Karkat says when he pulls back, and his dad frowns. “Not from the ghoul, from-- he’s got these fucking… _shackles_ , I guess. They’re silver and he’s been wearing them for years I don’t know how he’s not dead andhesayshe’sdangerousbuthe’s _not_ he’sobviouslynotand--”

“Karkat,” his father says, placing large, heavy hands on his shoulders. “Breathe.”

Karkat takes a breath. Then another one, and one more. Finally, he nods. Fuck, he needs to keep himself together. He can fall apart another time. Preferably somewhere no one can see or hear.

“Good. Now come and introduce me,” his father says, moving down the hallway without waiting for him. Karkat quickly follows, slipping in behind him as he enters the living room.

Dave’s standing, back to the window, with the coffee table between himself and Karkat and his father. The air is heavy with his anxiety and sickness, but fuck if he doesn’t still smell good, like morning coffee and the earth before it rains, but with something sweet underneath. Apples, maybe.

His dad stops near the doorway but Karkat continues forward until he’s standing a little in front and to the side of Dave. He doesn’t realize he’s put himself between Dave and his father until after it happens, when his dad raises his eyebrows. Karkat flushes but doesn’t move. He’ll protect both of them whether they want him to or not.

“This is Dave,” Karkat says, “the one we saved from the ghoul. Dave, this is my dad, Simon. He’s the Alpha of our pack.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” his dad says. He flashes his eyes in greeting, but Dave doesn’t respond in kind, just like in the forest. Simon only walks a couple steps into the room, keeping his distance from Dave. Karkat doesn’t know why Dave is so afraid; Alphas can be intimidating but they’re still people, still wolves. What kind of Alphas has Dave encountered to make him so wary?

Dave doesn’t answer, so Simon continues, “Please sit down. You’re injured, and we have a lot to discuss before the doctor gets here.”

This, oddly enough, is what prompts Dave to speak.

“I’m not injured,” he says, frowning. Karkat splutters incredulously. 

“You’re fucking _poisoned_ ,” Karkat says, “I can smell the sickness coming off of you!”

Dave finally takes his eyes off Simon, only to look at Karkat like he’s crazy. He opens his mouth--probably to insist that he’s fine, Karkat can feel it coming in his bones and it makes him grit his teeth in frustration--but his dad interrupts.

“Regardless, I’d prefer to speak with all of us sitting,” he says. He’s using his Business Alpha voice, which means he’s being calm and commanding and not swearing up a storm. He takes a chair and Dave moves back to the couch slowly, like any sudden movement might have Karkat’s dad attacking him. Karkat sits on the couch too, a respectable ways away.

“What brought you to my territory?” Simon asks. Dave shifts uncomfortably.

“Didn’t know it was yours,” he says. “We were passing through, me and my br--me and Bro, and then that thing showed up.”

“And your bro?” Simon presses. “Where is he now?”

Dave chews his lip and looks away, towards the window. Night is starting to fall, now, turning the sky a plethora of colors as the sun sets. 

“I don’t know. We got separated.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s lying, but it doesn’t sound like the whole truth. Dave’s voice is empty, flatter than Karkat’s heard it yet, and his scent is still fearful, but it’s calmer than when Simon first entered. Karkat meets his dad’s eyes and knows that he’s picked up on all of this as well.

“You don’t seem worried,” Simon points out. “Would you like to try calling him?”

Dave hesitates. There’s conflict in his eyes, but his voice is bland when he says, “Nah. Bro can take care of himself.”

“This is the same guy that makes you wear those bracelets, right?” Karkat growls, clenching his fists. Dave looks at him with a blank face that’s almost worse than if he scowled at him.

“He doesn’t make me wear them,” Dave says, fingers running absentmindedly over the leather.

Simon clears his throat, getting their attention before they can devolve into bickering. He looks at Dave. “We’ll have to have our doctor look over you, and you’ll have to listen to her, but as long as you do you’re welcome to stay here. We can also help you find your brother, if that’s what you want.”

Karkat straightens and looks at Dave hopefully. He looks put on the spot, wide-eyed and hesitant. He glances between Karkat and his dad and, after a moment, says, “I guess I could stay a couple of days. I don’t have anywhere else to go, anyway.”

A couple of days. A couple of days to convince his Mate that this pack is worth joining, that Karkat is worth sticking around for. Karkat can work with that.

Simon nods, standing. Dave’s eyes track him cautiously as he moves to the doorway. “I’ll have one of the kids set up a guest bedroom for you. Karkat, get the door for Diedra.”

Karkat had been so focused on the conversation that he didn’t even hear Deidra’s car arrive, or her approach, but he hears her knock impatiently at the door and scrambles to get up to let her in. He’s desperate to have her look over Dave and get that fucking silver off of him.

She’s all smiles when he opens the door, as usual. She contrasts his dad that way. She gives him a bone-crushing hug when she walks through the door, and messes up his hair with her hand when she pulls back.

“Congrats, kiddo!” she says. Karkat can’t help but crack a smile in the face of her enthusiasm. He’s been so worried about Dave he never got a chance to let it sink in that he has a _Mate_ , someone perfect for him, who compliments him in all ways, who Karkat does the same for. 

“Thanks,” he says sincerely.

Diedra leans around him to yell up the stairs, “Heya Nep! And others!” to which she receives a “hi mom!” and a chorus of shouted greetings from everyone gossiping upstairs.

“Alright, take me to the lucky boy,” she says, shifting her bag on her shoulder. He has no idea what she’s brought to warrant a bag that large, but he hopes it’s enough to help Dave.

Karkat takes her to the living room, where Dave is still sitting on the couch. Diedra doesn’t have the tact that Karkat’s father does and bounds over to him with a grin and an outheld hand. She flashes her eyes but isn’t deterred when Dave doesn’t respond.

“Hi there! I’m Diedra, the pack doctor. I’ve heard you met my daughter, Nepeta?” she says. Dave cautiously reaches out a hand and she shakes it enthusiastically. “I’m just here to look you over and give you some medicine if you need it, okay?”

“Uh, sure,” Dave says, unsurely. “That’s cool, I guess.”

Diedra smiles. “Good! Now, this will hopefully be a general physical, but I will need you to remove your—bracelets, and things.”

She barely stumbles on the subject of the disgusting torture instruments strapped to Dave’s extremities, which is more than Karkat can manage.

“Wha--No, I can’t do that, sorry,” Dave says. “This shit’s gotta stay on twenty-four seven. Part of the aesthetic, like my sweet sha—fuck, where are my shades?” He reaches up, touching the skin around his eyes like he forgot his sunglasses were gone. 

“Dave,” Diedra says, sounding serious for the first time since she walked in. “I understand you think you’re dangerous, but I can assure you that even if we remove the silver you will not harm anyone. I doubt you’re a violent person to begin with, but you are surrounded by werewolves. Even if you could hurt someone in your weakened state, the others will be there to stop you.”

There’s a tense moment, during which Karkat holds his breath, before Dave gives a tiny nod. Karkat breathes out loudly in relief and when Dave glances at him in askance, Karkat twitches his lips up into a small smile. Dave doesn’t smile back, but it might be because he’s caught off guard, if the look of surprise on his face is anything to go by.

“Fantastic!” Diedra says, clapping her hands together. “Now, you can choose to allow someone in the room with us if you’d like, or—”

“No,” Dave says firmly. Then he hastily continues, a twang of uncertainty in his voice. “I mean, I’m sure everyone here is chomping at the bit to get an eyeful of my hot bod—and who wouldn’t be let’s be honest here—but a girl’s gotta keep some things for her wedding night y’know?”

Diedra bursts into laughter while Karkat fights down a blush at the thought of Dave’s ‘hot bod’ and ‘wedding night’. 

“C’mon, kiddo, let’s get you to your room so I can look you over.”

She moves to put a hand on Dave’s shoulder but, with a glance at Karkat, drops it instead. He feels guilty for being thankful, but honestly the handshake earlier had Karkat’s instincts standing on end. He wants to sequester Dave away until they know each other, smell like each other, until his instincts drop the protective, jealous _mineminemine_ bullshit.

In the stories he heard and the books he read, this was supposed to be _romantic_. So far all it’s really been is stressful and exhausting.

Diedra leads Dave upstairs, Karkat following behind. He hears his packmates scrambling away into their rooms, trying to pretend like they’ve been busy this whole time. Karkat rolls his eyes. He’s gonna have to talk to them later, make sure they give Dave space. They can be overwhelming at the best of times.

Karkat’s dad walks out of one of the guest rooms and gestures them inside. When both he and Karkat try to walk in after Dave, Diedra stops them with a cheery, “Sorry guys!” and slams the door in their faces. Each of the bedrooms are charmed to be soundproof so long as the doors are closed, which means there’s no possibility of eavesdropping on them.

Simon sighs, leaning against the wall and pinching the bridge of his nose. He does this a lot when Diedra is involved. 

“How long do you think this is gonna take?” Karkat asks, crossing his arms. He’s already feeling antsy.

“I have no idea,” his dad admits. “C’mon, let’s go talk to the other kids and fill them in. Though I’m sure they heard every word, the nosy fucks.”

Karkat snorts, allowing his dad to lead him away from the bedroom door. He thinks maybe, with some luck, things might turn out okay.

-

Dave Strider is Fucked, capital F absolutely necessary.

This isn’t how his day was supposed to go. When he, Dirk, and Bro were moving through the forest that morning, hunting down a ghoul, and Bro said they were in werewolf territory so Dave would have a job to do himself, he’d expected to have a few days to prepare. He hadn’t expected Bro to grab his little brother by the collar and tear ass into the woods while the ghoul held Dave down, drool hanging from its gaping maw, only for two werewolves to crash through some bushes and save his ass.

He can’t help but wonder if Bro somehow planned this; if he knew the werewolves were coming and maneuvered Dave into a pathetic position, needing to be saved from a monster by other monsters. He assumes so, so he maybe leaned into the ‘victim’ role a bit too much, a bit too easily. Which is seriously coming around to bite him in the ass now.

He can’t really regret it, though, because that Karkat dude is hella hot. Shorter than Dave, but broader and fucking _built_ , like he does nothing but chow down on meat and lift weights all day. And he smells fucking fantastic, for some reason.

Dave would have thought werewolves were against wearing cologne or whatever because of their sensitive noses, but while Karkat was practically dragging his ass through the trees he realized he was wrong. He got some nice long exposure to that scent—warm, like hot chocolate and cinnamon—and it made his head feel wonderfully fuzzy.

He kind of regrets not letting Karkat into the room with him and the doctor wolf chick, actually, because it means that scent of his is quickly dissipating.

“Alright, Dave!” the doctor says, overly cheerful. She drops her bag onto a side table and pulls out an honest to god clipboard. “Let’s start with some basic info. Your name, date of birth, who Turned you and when, that kind of stuff.”

Dave rattles off the fake identity Bro built for him years ago—David Saxton, 20 years old, son of Theresa and Dwayne, both deceased. He tells her the same thing he’d told the wolves downstairs, that he was turned four years ago by some rando. She looks at him suspiciously, but it’s true. 

He may make it sound like it was a completely unwarranted attack, which… isn’t entirely true. Bro had been hunting a pack and Dirk was gonna pay the price; Dave had jumped in at the last second. But she doesn’t have to know that.

They get through the boring stuff and then this woman pulls an actual scale out of her bag and puts it on the floor, instructing him to stand on it. He gapes at her.

“Damn, lady, how much did you manage to fit in that thing?” he asks. He looks back at her bag, wondering if it’s magic.

“Enough,” she laughs, ushering him onto the scale. He doesn’t look, because he knows he’s hella underweight; always has been, even before he became a werewolf. The doctor hums and writes something down on her clipboard, then has him sit back down on the bed.

She pulls a pouch out of her bag, and out of that she pulls a small knife. Dave stiffens.

“Don’t worry,” she says. She doesn’t approach him or even look at him, instead fiddling with the watch on her wrist. “I’m going to make a small, shallow cut and see how long it takes to heal.”

She moves closer and holds her hand out. Dave hesitates, but gives her his arm. She rolls up his sleeve and doesn’t mention anything about his scars, thankfully. She makes a tiny cut on his arm, so small it barely even hurts, and they sit in awkward silence for a full minute as she watches it.

When it doesn’t magically heal over she frowns. She wipes the small amount of blood away and sticks a tiny purple bandaid on it. 

“I’d offer a lollipop but I forgot them at home,” she says regretfully. 

Dave’s starting to feel antsy and anxious—more so than before, if that’s even possible. The doctor notices and gives him a small smile.

“We’re almost done,” she says. “Then I’ll let you get back to Karkat.”

Dave blinks at her, uncomprehending, and then feels his face flame. Shit, what the fuck?

Oh holy fucking shit. Can werewolves like, smell attraction? Is that a thing? Jesus christ, that’s embarrassing. Does that mean _Karkat_ is aware of it? Is Karkat’s _dad_ aware of it?

Diedra looks at his rapidly reddening face and cackles. “Oh to be young again,” she says dramatically, holding a hand over her heart. 

Fuck, when he’d been dragged into a literal den of werewolves this is the last thing he thought would be a problem. He was expecting more bloodshed, more gnashing teeth and claws, but so far all that’s happened has been a few threatening eye flashes, probably to make sure Dave remembers he’s an intruder here.

Actually, so far every werewolf he’s encountered has been… surprisingly nice? It’s throwing him off. Werewolves are monsters; they’re out of control and they hunt and kill and infect innocent people. The only reason Dave’s even remotely held onto his humanity is because of the silver Bro got him. Speaking of...

“Alright, kiddo,” the doctor says, taking a bunch of stuff out of her bag. “Time for the not so fun part. We gotta get that silver off of you.”

Dave clenches his teeth, but he doesn’t try to say no. He has to get as much info about the pack as he can for Bro, and the Alpha said he can only stay if he listens to the doctor. So removing his bracelets it is. Bro will understand, won’t he? And what Diedra said before was right, if he tried to hurt someone it’s not like he would get very far, surrounded by werewolves.

Diedra pulls on a pair of thick gloves and makes quick work unlatching the first bracelet. 

“You can scream if you need to,” she says, looking him dead in the eye. It’s weird to see her so serious. “The bedrooms are charmed to be soundproof.”

And with that, she removes the leather band.

Dave isn’t going to scream. He’s had his ribs broken more times than he can count, felt the metal of his Bro’s blade cutting into his skin, had his arm popped in and out of the socket, and more, all without making a sound. He’d taken the silver around his wrists and ankles and neck with barely a few whimpers, before the pain had dulled over months and months.

But removing it is _so much worse_. Diedra rips it off in one swift movement, and searing, sharp pain follows. He feels it in his bones, a deep, angry ache that crawls down to his fingers and up his arm, radiating out from his wrist. Tears spring to his eyes but he swallows his pain down, breathing harshly through his nose.

He looks at his wrist and feels his stomach churn. There’s a thick line of black where the silver has been pressed against his skin for years. The area around it is red and inflamed, but the black part oozes blood and pus. It looks like something out of a horror movie.

“You’re okay,” Diedra says soothingly. She grabs a jar from the table, takes his hand, and gently applies some sort of pink goo to his wrist. “This salve needs to sit for five minutes.”

No matter how gentle she is, it doesn’t stop the sting, like a thousand little knives stabbing into him. The pain only builds and builds the longer the goo sits, but the doctor is already moving to his other wrist, and removing the bracelet there, too.

Dave can’t hold back his whimper this time. He squeezes his eyes closed as she applies the salve to his other wrist, and by the time she’s gently wiping it off of the first one Dave is panting, tears running down his face, choked off whines tumbling from his mouth.

“You’re doing great, Dave,” the doctor says. She puts a different kind of goo on, and though it doesn’t stop the pain entirely it does soothe it slightly. Any kind of reprieve is a blessing at this point, though, and he sobs in relief. 

Diedra wraps his wrist in a thick, gauze-y bandage, then does the same to the other one after applying the new salve. She lets him breathe for a minute.

“Ankles next,” she says, quietly. Dave looks up at her, tears blurring his vision, and gives a shaky nod.

If he thought it would be better because he knows what to expect now, he’s wrong. He’s trembling by the time his ankles are wrapped, sweat and tears and snot pouring down his face. He feels woozy, light headed, and hysterically wishes Karkat were here with him.

Diedra removes the one around his neck and Dave screams. It’s weak and rough and pathetic and he hates himself for it.

Bro would be so disappointed in him.

He must black out for a short while, because when he opens his eyes again he’s laying on the bed, wounds throbbing, but bearable, for the most part. Diedra is gone, the door is closed, and Dave can’t hear anyone moving outside.

He’s so fucking tired. He just wants to sleep. But he’s in enemy territory and he’s got a job to do, so he pushes himself to his feet and slowly limps to the door.

The moment he opens it, sound comes rushing back to him. People moving around downstairs, laughter coming from somewhere down the hall, the rushing water of a shower running. Huh, guess that soundproofing thing is true. He tucks that away in his mind. Bro could probably use that.

Another door opens as he’s leaving his room and the girl from before—Nepeta?—walks out.

“Dave? What are you doing up?” She asks, surprised. “My mom said you’d be out for awhile. Oh! Wait there one second!”

She bounds back into her room, leaving Dave standing awkwardly in the hallway. Another girl pokes her head out from a different room, this time the one with the red glasses, and gives an exaggerated sniff.

“Ooooh, Mr. Silver’s awake,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “How did you smell better with your shackles on?”

“Uh,” says Dave.

“Oh, leave him alone, Terezi,” Nepeta says as she returns. She holds out Dave’s shades with a smile. “Here, sorry it took so long to get them back to you. You were pretty busy for awhile.”

Dave eagerly grabs them and shoves them onto his face, a weight he didn’t know was holding him down lifting from his shoulders. Normalcy at last.

“Thanks,” he tells her. “And thanks for uh, earlier, too, with the ghoul.”

She grins. “No problem! Do you think you’ll be up to eating dinner with everyone? They’re all dying to meet you properly.”

While she’s talking, the shower turns off and a very grumpy looking Karkat walks out, steam following behind him, wearing naught but a towel around his waist. Dave is immediately glad for his shades because _holy fuck_.

His hair is wet and dripping, curls still managing to pop up at random. Dave’s eyes follow a water droplet down the cords of his neck, his strong shoulders, and it pools at the dip in his collarbone before running down between his pecs—the dude has pecs—and his abs—the dude has _abs_. 

The drop gets lost somewhere in the light dusting of hair starting below Karkat’s bellybutton, but that doesn’t stop Dave’s eyes from drifting lower. Jesus christ, he has that fucking V, the—what is it called? Shit, he can’t remember, but it’s hot as fuck and Dave’s really about to be sporting a half chub in this hallway, huh?

“Well?” Karkat asks, and Dave’s eyes snap up from where his hand is holding the towel in place to his face. 

Oh fuck, was he talking this whole time?

“Uhh,” Dave says. “Yes?”

This is not the right answer, going by the way Karkat’s brows furrow in confusion. Nepeta giggles and Terezi lets out a loud cackle and Dave’s face heats up.

“Go get dressed, Karkitty,” Nepeta says, pushing Karkat away. “Dave will be fine without you for a few more minutes.”

A not-at-all small part of Dave wants to protest. Karkat should absolutely not go get dressed. In fact, a towel should be mandatory dress code for all people Karkat-shaped. But his protests get lost on his tongue when Karkat turns around, giving Dave a wonderful view of his muscular back.

Something smacks Dave in the shin and he jumps, his ankles giving a sharp throb. He’s surprised to find that Terezi had managed to sneak up on him, and in her hands is a cane; the cause of the forming bruise on his shin, no doubt. 

“Keep it in your pants, new kid,” Terezi says with a shark-like grin. 

“What the fuck, dude. Why do you have a cane?” Dave frowns.

“Uh, because I’m blind?” the girl replies, waving a hand in front of her face. “Way to be insensitive.”

Dave’s mouth drops open, shocked. “How can a werewolf be blind?”

Nepeta sighs. “Terezi, don’t--”

But Terezi’s already tilting her red glasses down, revealing milky white eyes and a whole lot of scarring around the edges. Her smile doesn’t falter, but it seems sharper. 

“Powdered wolfsbane to the eyes,” she says, pushing her glasses back up. “And unlike _some_ people, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Dave frowns, but before he can say anything to defend himself, Karkat’s back and growling up a storm. It makes the hairs on Dave’s arms stand on end, and he fights the urge the bare his neck because what the fuck even is that instinct?

“For fuck’s sake, Terezi,” Karkat says. He’s wearing a baggy sweater and sweatpants, and Dave takes a moment to mourn. “You’ve been hanging out with Vriska too much.”

“Touchy touchy,” Terezi says flippantly. She shrugs and heads back to her room, but leaves the door open. Karkat sighs and turns to Dave.

“Why the fuck are you even up?” he asks, moving to wrap an arm around Dave’s back, just like he had when they’d been walking through the forest. Dave can’t even complain because he gets to inhale that wonderful smell again, and it makes his knees weak. 

“I don’t know, man, I just woke up,” Dave says as Karkat leads him back into the bedroom and deposits him on the bed. “Didn’t know I’m supposed to be on bed rest.” 

Karkat looks at him like he’s a world class idiot. “You just had silver removed from your skin; of course you’re on bed rest. And what’s with those sunglasses? You look like a tool.”

It’s weird to consider that Karkat’s seen him more without his shades than with them. He reaches up and adjusts them, pulling a smirk onto his face and ignoring his aching wrists.

“Nah, man, these are cool as shit,” he says. “My friend got them for me a long time ago. They’re Stiller’s shades, got that certificate of authenticity and everything.”

Dave hasn’t thought about John in a long time. They haven’t spoken since Dave got turned into a werewolf and everything went to shit. He wonders how he’s doing, if he still can’t stand baked goods and if his dad still makes him dozens of cakes regardless. 

“Dinner’s ready!” an unfamiliar voice calls from downstairs, followed quickly by the sound of an alarming amount of people bolting for the stairs. Karkat sighs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. 

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll grab you something to eat, before it’s all gone.”

“Sure, dude,” Dave says, staring at his ass as he leaves the room.

He flops back on the bed when Karkat’s out of sight and sighs. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, thirsting after some random werewolf. He’s fucked people for information before, sometimes at Bro’s urging, but is that even necessary here? It’s not like they’re keeping shit under lock and key. 

Karkat hadn’t even blinked when he’d asked how many werewolves live here, and they fucking soundproof their bedrooms, and one of them is _blind_. Bro might have trouble with being outnumbered, but honestly Dave probably has enough information that he could take off now and Bro would be fine with it.

But that would mean going back without his bracelets, and Bro would definitely not be fine with that. He has no idea where that doctor put them, either. 

And… maybe he’d feel guilty, selling them out to Bro. Werewolves are monsters, they’re _supposed_ to be monsters, but so far they just… seem like people. Weird people, yeah, but people.

He’s contemplating the likelihood of getting Bro to back off somehow (maybe if he tells him there’s a shit ton of them? That there aren’t any obvious weak points in the pack?) when Karkat walks back in, face a little flushed, carrying two bowls of soup. 

Dave sits up and makes grabby hands. He didn’t realize how fucking hungry he’s been until just now. 

“It’s hot,” Karkat warns, passing him the bowl. He sits in the only chair in the room and blows on a spoonful of his own soup.

Dave disregards his warning completely, shoving a spoonful of steaming, creamy goodness in his mouth. It burns like a bitch but he moans around the spoon regardless. He doesn’t know what kind of soup it is, but it’s delicious. He immediately decides to stick around for another couple of days, for the food if nothing else.

He looks up to see Karkat staring at him, eyes wide. Dave slurps down some more soup and says, “‘Sup?”

Karkat startles slightly, snapping his eyes down to his own bowl and shrugging. “You’ve got shit manners. You’re eating—”

“Like I was raised by wolves?” Dave can’t help it. He smirks at Karkat’s huffy eyeroll. “This shit is the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted, my man. My compliments to the chef, or whatever the fuck. God, I don’t even remember the last time I ate something warm.”

He shoves another spoonful in his mouth, then decides ‘fuck it’ and slurps it straight from the bowl. He can feel the heat move down through his chest and pool in his stomach. Karkat’s right, he’s got shit manners. Not much of a point to them when you’re never sure when your next meal is coming. Besides, it’s more important that Dirk eats. 

He only lowers the bowl when it’s empty and wipes his mouth on his hand. Karkat stares at him, a complicated look on his face, and holds out his bowl to Dave.

“Here,” he says, when Dave doesn’t make a move to grab it. Taking a werewolf's food sounds like a fundamentally bad idea. “Eat as much as you want. I’ll go get some more.”

Dave eats this bowl slower, but it’s still mostly gone by the time Karkat comes back upstairs. He tries to give Dave the new bowl but Dave shakes his head. He knows better than to eat too much after not having enough; he’s suffered that fate before, and he’d rather keep the soup in his stomach, thanks. He finishes it off while Karkat eats his, much slower and more civilized than Dave.

“Aradia says thanks, by the way,” Karkat says. “It was her turn to cook.”

A sudden, high pitched scream comes from downstairs and Dave jumps, looking to the door with wide eyes. 

“And those’ll be the kids,” Karkat says. “They’re always loud as fuck. You’ll get used to it.”

Dave feels a lump form in his throat, cold dread spreading through his veins. “Kids?”

Fuck. There are kids here? He didn’t even consider that. He can’t—he can’t let Bro kill kids, even monster kids. Shit. What the fuck is he supposed to do?

“Yeah, I think it’s just Kankri and Porrim here tonight, though,” Karkat says, unaware of his inner turmoil. “All the others are having sleepovers somewhere else. Kankri’s my brother; he’s a little shithead who thinks he knows everything, but Porrim’s okay.”

Dave nods, feeling sick. “H-hey, Karkat, I gotta tell--”

“Hey boys!”

Diedra pushes the door open, grinning widely, and flourishes her clipboard. “Behaving yourselves, I hope?”

She winks, very obviously, at Dave. Karkat groans. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Language, Vantas,” Diedra scolds, but her smile doesn’t falter. “I’m just here to give my favorite patient his results and some follow up instructions. You want me to kick this one out?”

She directs that last bit at Dave, jerking her thumb at Karkat, who splutters indignantly. Dave smiles at her and says, “Nah, it’s fine. So what’s up, doc? Give it to me straight. Am I dying?”

It’s this that makes her frown, expression turning serious in the blink of an eye. She sits down at the end of the bed, cross-legged, and fixes him with a gaze that makes it feel like she sees right through him. 

“You’re in rough shape, Dave,” she says. “You’re severely malnourished. If it weren’t for the silver poisoning slowing your metabolism and healing abilities down, you would have starved to death already. As for the poisoning itself, it will likely take years for you to fully recover.”

She pulls a piece of paper off of her clipboard and hands it to him. “I’ve made you a meal plan that you’re going to need to stick to as best you can. It will probably feel like a lot of food, but your body needs it all. Trust me. On the back there’s instructions for how to take care of your wounds.

“It’s very similar to what we did today, but the initial salve I’ll be giving you won’t be so concentrated, so it hopefully won’t hurt as much. You’ll need to do this in the morning and evening, got it?” She gives him a sympathetic look as he nods slowly. 

“Is that all?” Karkat says, voice sharp. It doesn’t faze Diedra, though. She gives him a patiently amused look.

“Not quite,” she says. She turns her attention back to Dave. “You’re likely going to feel very fatigued soon. I can’t tell you for sure how long this will last, but with the silver removed your body is going to be turning every last resource to healing itself. So rest up as best you can, and no over-exerting yourself.”

She tosses a pointed look at Karkat when she says the last bit, and Dave watches as a delightfully pink flush washes over his face. Diedra smiles, placing a small bag on the bed as she gets up. 

“That has everything you need,” she says, nodding to the bag. “Me and Nep are heading out for the night. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple days, Dave. It was nice meeting you.”

Despite her words, she flashes her eyes at him; green irises turning gold for a split second and then settling back to their usual color. Dave does his best to keep a straight face. He doesn’t think he’s done anything to warrant the amount of glinting eyes he’s gotten, but what does he know? Maybe it’s just so he remembers his place.

“Uh, yeah, you too,” he says. He wonders how they do that weird eye thing. He hopes it’s on purpose, and not something that happens when they’re feeling particularly angry. 

“Let me see that,” Karkat says, grabbing the paper out of his hands after Diedra leaves.

“Rude,” Dave tells him. He doesn’t try to take the paper back though. There’s a bunch of tiny writing on there and focusing his eyes is starting to take a lot of effort. “And hypocritical, considering you were all Mr. Manners a few minutes ago.”

Karkat grunts, clearly not listening, as he reads over the instructions with a look of concentration. It’s pretty cute, actually. He’s biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows. Dave wants to smooth the crease out with his thumb and actually finds his arm lifting to reach out to Karkat.

The moment he realizes this, he drops his arm. He’s exhausted and not thinking straight. He pretends to yawn, but it turns into a real one almost instantly, a big one that has him squeezing his eyes shut behind his shades.

When he opens them again Karkat is watching him closely. 

“You should sleep,” he says, standing up. He grabs their bowls, but hesitates. 

“Uh, yeah, probably,” Dave says. “Thanks, dude.”

He doesn’t really want Karkat to leave. Since he’s been in here the room has slowly filled up with that warm, soft scent, and he doesn’t want it to slip away again. But he doesn’t know how to say that, because it’s really fucking weird, and Karkat’s been so nice to Dave already that he doesn’t want to impose, anyway.

“Right, yeah,” Karkat says. Something about him seems disappointed. “My room’s at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

He nods at Dave and shuts the door most of the way, leaving it open a crack so the sounds of the house still drift into the room. Dave isn’t sure what, but he has a feeling he just did something wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> previously: Karkat found and rescued Dave from a ghoul and took him home. Dave got looked over by the pack doctor, Diedra, and had his shackles removed. Karkat left Dave to fall asleep in the guest bedroom.

Karkat spends his night trying to ignore the sting of Dave’s gentle rejection. He’s off dish duty thanks to ghoul hunting, but trades with Sollux in return for a favor to be decided sometime in the future (Sollux fucking hates doing dishes). It keeps Karkat’s hands busy but not his mind, and by the time he’s finished he’s grumpier than before.

The worst part is that everyone is being so understanding. He’s being a piece of shit and he knows it. He growled at Nepeta, he nearly took Diedra’s head off when he heard that Dave had passed out, slamming through the halls to check on his Mate. 

But instead of slapping him upside the head like he deserves, his packmates are being _nice_ , which is somehow more annoying. Even Terezi lets him wrestle the remote from her and change the channel from her courtroom dramas to Hitch.

He can’t even enjoy the movie, because his mind is on Dave. His Mate, who is hurting and alone upstairs, where Karkat should be. From everything he’s heard about Mates, they’re not supposed to want to be separated for _weeks_ after they first meet. But Dave had waved him out the door like it was nothing.

He can’t be upset at Dave, though. He’s obviously been through a lot, and Karkat has a feeling they haven’t even scratched the surface. He can’t begrudge Dave his space.

Still, he really fucking wants to cuddle.

He sleeps like garbage. He tosses and turns, ears attuned to every sound happening outside his cracked door. Part of him hopes Dave will come knocking so he can crawl into Karkat’s bed and they can sleep curled around each other, Dave safe in Karkat’s arms. It’s sappy as shit but thinking about it settles the anxiety in his chest, at least a little.

Karkat covers his head with his pillow when the sun starts to rise, but eventually gives up on sleep. He heads down to the kitchen to make himself breakfast, unsurprised to find that he’s the only one up. 

He wants to peek in on Dave, make sure he’s okay, but he’s not a fucking creep. (He can smell his lovely scent as he passes the door, Dave is fine, he’s _fine_.)

He sleepily eats a bowl of cereal, then gets started on making pancakes for when everyone else wakes up. Breakfast is usually a fend for yourself type deal, unlike dinner where they all take turns cooking. But Karkat was such a bitch yesterday he feels like he needs to make up for it.

He makes a metric fuckton of pancakes and sets them up on the kitchen table. Porrim is the first to drift in, giving him a polite thanks and taking her plate to watch cartoons in the living room. The others will make their way in eventually, drawn by the smell of food.

Karkat makes Dave a special breakfast, following Diedra’s meal plan. Two eggs (scrambled, because he doesn’t know how Dave likes them) with cheese, some sausage links, strawberries, and a piece of toast with butter. He also grabs a bottle of water and a glass of orange juice. He doubts Dave will be able to eat all of it, but at least he’ll have options.

He carries it all precariously up the stairs, expecting to leave it on the table while Dave sleeps in, but the second he opens the door Dave is sitting bolt upright, blinking sleep from his vivid red eyes.

“Morning,” Karkat says. He hands Dave the plate.

“Shit, dude, breakfast in bed?” Dave says, staring down at the food like he’s never seen anything like it before. “Y’all got a yelp page? Five star review waiting for you right here.”

Karkat snorts. “Shut up and eat.”

Dave smiles at him. It’s a small thing, but it makes his heart leap to his throat and his stomach swoop pleasantly. Fuck, Karkat really wants to kiss him. 

Instead he plops down in the chair and watches as Dave digs into the meal. The wolf part of his brain is beyond pleased, seeing his Mate eat the food he provided. It happened yesterday too, urging him to pass his own dinner over when Dave scarfed down his like he’d never had a decent meal in his life. 

“How’d you sleep?” Karkat asks, watching as Dave takes a drink of orange juice and wrinkles his nose. “You got something against orange juice?”

“It’s okay,” Dave shrugs, shoving toast into his mouth as he speaks. It’s honestly quite disgusting and Karkat blames his wolf side for finding it kind of endearing. “It’s no apple juice but it’ll do. And I slept okay.”

Karkat nods and lets the conversation drop as Dave eats. He manages to eat about half of the plate before he’s picking at it and Karkat says, “You don’t have to eat all of it. I’m sure someone around here will finish it off.”

Dave smiles at him, puts the plate aside, and stretches. “Dude do you think I could like, shower? I know I’m supposed to be on bed rest or whatever but I’m pretty sure I smell rank.”

“Yeah, of course,” Karkat says. “I’ll get you a change of clothes and we can wash what you’re wearing.”

Dave’s clothes look like they’ve seen better days. They’re ripped and ragged and dirty, and Karkat wants to slap himself for not thinking to offer pajamas last night. The thought of seeing Dave in his own clothes makes him unreasonably pleased. He wants to give Dave a shirt he’s already worn, wrap him up in his scent, but that’s a little too possessive considering they’ve only known each other a day.

He goes to grab Dave some clothes. No doubt they’ll fit all wrong--Dave is taller and skinnier than he is--but it’s better than nothing. He makes sure to grab his softest sweater, then his shower caddy and a towel. Dave raises an eyebrow at it when he comes back. He’s put on his shades, to Karkat’s consternation. 

“There’s too many people in this house,” Karkat shrugs, leading him to the bathroom. “If we all kept our shower shit in here there’d be no room for any of us.”

He shows Dave how to work the shower, because it’s finicky as fuck sometimes. Dave stands close to him as he watches and Karkat desperately wants to reach out and touch him. Instead he settles with taking deep breaths through his nose, breathing him in, before leaving him to his shower.

It takes a lot of effort not to stand guard at the door, but he squashes those ridiculous instincts and instead heads back into Dave’s room to grab his dishes and bring them downstairs. He deposits the half-eaten plate of food in front of a sleepy Terezi, who sniffs at it suspiciously.

“You should find your Mate more often,” she says, popping an entire sausage link into her mouth.

“Whatever,” Karkat rolls his eyes. “Lay off him next time. And tell Vriska to go fuck herself.”

Terezi’s laughter follows him out of the kitchen. He finds his dad in the living room, going over some documents while Kankri looks on seriously.

“Morning,” Karkat says. He gets a grunt in response from his dad and crossed arms from his little brother. “Kankri, go play with Porrim.”

“She went back to sleep,” Kankri says in his nasally voice. “And it would be rude to wake her up.”

Karkat glances at his dad for help, but Simon doesn’t look up from his papers. Ugh, fine, he’ll talk to him later. His dad is useless before noon anyway. He gives Kankri a noogie on his way out, because what else are big brothers for?

He texts Kanaya, telling her about the new developments. She’s ecstatic for him and wants to rush over immediately to meet Dave, but he persuades her to wait until the normal time she comes to pick up Porrim after a sleepover. She’s not happy but agrees nonetheless. 

His ears twitch when he hears the bathroom door open and feet plod towards the guest bedroom. He forces himself to wait at least a couple minutes before he pushes himself off his bed and follows.

The door is closed all the way, so Karkat knocks. He doesn’t get an answer and knocks again, frowning. Still no answer. He turns the handle and cracks the door open the slightest amount, just enough to break the charm. 

“Dave, are you okay? Can I come in?” he asks.

A moment of quiet, where Karkat can hear Dave breathing, then a soft, “yeah, dude.”

Karkat pushes the door open the rest of the way and steps inside. Dave is standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at the salves, bandages, and instructions Diedra left for him. He’s thrown his dirty clothes, wet towel, and Karkat’s shower caddy onto the chair. He’s dressed in Karkat’s clothes, smelling like his soap and shampoo, and it’s almost enough.

What gives Karkat pause is the black skin standing out starkly on his pale neck. A thick line of it, raised and rough and angry. His eyes flit down to see the same line on his wrists and ankles, where Karkat’s clothes don’t entirely reach.

“Jesus, Dave,” Karkat breathes. He shuts the door behind him and moves closer.

“Just Dave please,” he says, voice empty and face blank. He’s wearing his stupid sunglasses again, which Karkat is starting to think might be pretty usual for him.

“Do you need help?” Karkat frowns, looking over at the potions on the bed. Dave turns to look at him.

“No—I mean… Maybe?” he says. He runs a hand through his damp hair. “It’s just, is it okay for me to use this stuff?”

“What do you mean? Of course it is, Diedra left it for you,” Karkat says, face dropping into a confused scowl.

“But what if someone needs it more than me?” Dave asks, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I mean, I’m fine, I don’t gotta use it if—”

“Dave,” Karkat interrupts, his Alpha voice making an appearance. He clears his throat and says, as gentle as he can, “No one will need this more than you. It’s for silver poisoning. And if, by some miraculous fuck up, someone _does_ need it, Diedra can make or buy some more.”

Dave’s silent, watching him. He still seems conflicted, but Karkat doesn’t know what else to say to convince him. Karkat grabs the red bottle and the instructions, glancing over them. He already knows what it says; he’d practically memorized it last night. 

Dave sighs and says, “Yeah, alright. Might as well get the worst part over with first. Also I mighthavegotbloodonyourtowel.”

He tilts his head back, exposing his throat, and Karkat fumbles with the bottle. His breath hitches, eyes following the line of his Mate’s long, slender neck, getting stuck where his neck meets his shoulder. He feels his teeth elongating in his mouth and he wants to _bitemarkclaim_. It takes a herculean effort to return them to normal.

“Karkat?” Dave says hesitantly. “Dude, I’m sorry about the towel, I didn’t even think about it until I was already using it and—"

“It’s fine,” Karkat says. He pours the salve onto his fingers and reaches up, smearing it on Dave’s skin. It smells sickly sweet. When he pulls his hand away he awkwardly says, “Five minutes. Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” Dave says through gritted teeth, sitting down on the bed. Karkat grabs the other bottle before it rolls off, carefully putting it on the bedside table. Dave thrusts his hand out and says, “C’mon, let’s get this done with quick.”

Karkat gently takes his hand and applies the salve to his wrists, then kneels and applies it to his ankles. By the time he’s done Dave is breathing heavily through his nose, and Karkat casts his mind around for something to distract him while he keeps an eye on the time.

“Tell me about yourself.” It’s the only thing he can come up with, lame as it is. “What do you like to do? Any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?” Dave repeats raggedly. “Uhh… I don’t know dude, not really? I used to like, make music and draw and shit. I liked photography. I don’t really do that stuff anymore though.”

“Why not?” Karkat asks, taking Dave’s hand as they talk, rubbing slow, gentle circles into his skin.

“Got turned into a werewolf,” Dave shrugs. “I mean life wasn’t exactly great before then but that kind of threw a wrench into things.”

“Time’s up,” Karkat says, grabbing the towel and using it to wipe the salve off. Dave lets out a relieved breath of air, tilting his head back to give Karkat better access. Karkat’s stomach swoops.

He doesn’t know what Dave’s deal is. He doesn’t want to cuddle, hasn’t tried to scent mark him at all, but he’s fine baring his throat? That’s a lot of mixed messages he’s sending, and Karkat wants to call him out on it but he’s also afraid of being outright rejected. So instead he grabs the other salve and puts it on, then bandages Dave up.

By the time he’s done Dave is swaying in his spot on the bed. Karkat pushes his shoulder gently, urging him to lay down, and says, “Get some rest. I’ll wake you up for lunch.”

He takes Dave’s sunglasses off to find his eyes are already closed. He folds them up and puts them on the table. As he’s leaving he hears Dave mumble, “thanks, Karkat.”

Karkat closes the door most of the way with a smile. It can be weird, not having noise from the house sneak through the walls and doors. The charm is really only there for privacy, which comes especially in handy when you have a group of hormonally charged teenagers running around. It only took a few embarrassing incidents for Simon to have a witch come to the house.

Karkat’s grumpy and slept like shit, but he has a restless energy thrumming in his veins, the kind that only goes away with a workout, so he decides to go on a run. He changes out of his pajamas and puts on his sneakers and heads out, but only gets about five minutes away before there’s anxiety coiling in his gut, fear at leaving Dave unprotected and vulnerable.

It doesn’t even make sense, because Dave is surrounded by Karkat’s pack. Nothing bad will happen. But Dave isn’t their pack yet, and even though logically he knows they wouldn’t hurt him it doesn’t stop him from clenching his teeth at the thought.

He turns back and sulks back into his room. A shit-ton of push ups and sit ups will have to do. He’s worked up a decent sweat when Sollux strolls in, eyeing him with disdain.

“With all the noise you’re making I expected your Mate to be in here with you,” he says, his slight lisp ever apparent.

Karkat pushes himself up so he’s standing, panting slightly. “What do you want, shitmunch? I’m fucking busy, if you can’t tell.”

“Busy smelling up the whole damn house with your insufferable pining and disgusting sweat, sure,” Sollux returns. Their friendship is a strange one. Sometimes Karkat’s not even sure they _are_ friends, until one of them comes crawling back just to make sure they’re still good.

“Do you have a point or did you get bored of being shitty at video games and come here just to antagonize me?” Karkat huffs, crossing his arms. Now that his workout’s been interrupted he really fucking wants a shower. 

“It’s almost lunch time,” Sollux says. “Pretty sure you have some fancy meal to be making, unless you’re planning to let Diedra skin you alive. And I can kick your ass at any game, any time, with one hand behind my back.”

He walks away before Karkat can say anything more, which is probably a good thing because their snarking can go on for hours. And as much as he hates to admit it, Sollux is right. 

He showers, cooks, and fields off his scavenging packmates when they try to pick at Dave’s meal. He does make sandwiches for Kankri and Porrim (on wheat bread, which Porrim prefers but Kankri hates), because they’re kids, but everyone else can get fucked.

He knocks on Dave’s door, one hand holding a loaded plate of food. He expects Dave to wake up as he enters, like he did previously, but pushing open the door reveals him curled on his side on top of the blankets, softly snoring. It’s cute as shit and makes Karkat’s heart melt. 

“Dave, wake up,” he says, putting the plate down. Dave doesn’t stir, so Karkat grabs his shoulder and gives it a little shake.

The result is instantaneous. Dave’s eyes snap open and he bolts upright, scrambling to get off the bed to his feet. He’s forgotten about his injuries in the process, though, and his ankles give out and would have sent him to the floor if Karkat hadn’t caught him.

Karkat’s arms around him only frighten Dave more. Karkat doesn’t want to hurt him but he’s afraid Dave might hurt himself at this rate, so he pulls him close and pins Dave’s arms to his sides in what amounts to a very aggressive hug.

“Dave, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Karkat says. He tries to make his voice soothing but it comes out shaky. Dave reeks of fear and he’s shaking like a leaf and Karkat doesn’t know what to do.

It takes a long minute for Dave to stop struggling, and even longer for his breathing to even out. Karkat loosens his hold slightly.

“Karkat?” Dave’s voice is muffled, face pressed into Karkat’s shoulder. Karkat breathes a sigh of relief and lets his grip slacken, no longer pinning Dave, but holding him gently.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says. “Are you okay?”

It’s a stupid fucking question. Karkat just unintentionally sprung a panic attack on him; of course he’s not fucking okay. But Dave’s shoulders shake in a quiet laugh, and he presses himself into Karkat so lightly and so quickly that when he pulls away Karkat thinks he must have imagined it.

“I’m fine, dude,” Dave says. His face is pale except for two spots of pink on his cheeks. He’s embarrassed and Karkat feels guilty as fuck. “Sorry. People don’t usually get the drop on me like that.”

Every new thing he learns about Dave leads to more questions. What the fuck kind of life did he lead that required him to be on alert all the time? 

“You were sleeping pretty hard,” Karkat says, instead of prying. “It’s lunch time.”

Dave looks around, sees the food, and his face lights up. “Oh dude, sweet! Thanks!”

He grabs his dumb sunglasses and puts them on before he takes the plate and shovels food into his mouth like he thinks someone’s gonna snatch it from him if he doesn’t eat it quickly enough. He eats even less than he did at breakfast, which makes Karkat frown in concern, but at least he eats something.

“Do you wanna head downstairs? Nepeta was right, yesterday. Everyone’s frothing at the mouth to meet you,” Karkat says.

“What happened to bed rest?” Dave asks. Karkat rolls his eyes.

“We’ll watch a movie or something,” he says. “Nothing strenuous. Or I guess I could have them come in here to meet you. One or two at a time. That might be a better idea, actually. My packmates can be a fucking nightmare even on their best behavior, but if I don’t introduce you soon they’ll be breaking down the door.”

Dave’s silent for a moment, hands picking at the blanket beneath him. Karkat recalls his fear, seeing his packmates gathered on the porch when they arrived and Dave’s reaction to his father. Is it people in general Dave is uncomfortable around or just werewolves?

“Yeah man, let’s go watch a movie.” Dave gets to his feet, more carefully this time, and makes to grab his plate but Karkat snatches it up before he can. He can’t see past the shades, but he thinks Dave rolls his eyes at him.

They head downstairs, Karkat eyeing Dave the entire way in case he needs to catch him. But Dave reaches the landing without incident and looks around, taking in the hallway lined with framed pictures of the pack. His face is blank until he points at one of the pictures, from when Karkat was still a kid. His lips turn up into a little smile.

“Is that you?” he asks unnecessarily. “Hah, you were a nerd.”

If he wasn’t injured Karkat would shove him, but instead he huffs and marches into the living room, plopping onto the couch and helping himself to Dave’s leftovers. “And I bet you were just the coolest fucking 13 year old around, huh?”

“Oh you fuckin’ know it,” Dave says. He sits down next to Karkat, their legs pressing together. “I woulda bullied your nerdy ass like a coming-of-age movie antagonist, that’s how much cooler I was than you.”

The front door slams open, making Dave jump to his feet. Karkat sighs and rolls his eyes.

“TEZ!” a young, high pitched voice calls from the hallway. “I’M HOME!”

“That’s Latula,” Karkat says, grabbing Dave’s shirt sleeve and tugging him back down to the couch. “She’s human and even though she’s grown up with werewolves her whole damn life she still doesn’t realize she can just talk like a normal fucking person and everyone will hear her.”

There’s the unmistakable thunk of Latula dropping her skateboard followed by the sound of Terezi going downstairs.

“Hey ‘Tula, how’s the _boyfriend_?” Terezi’s voice teases. Karkat grabs the remote and starts flicking through channels, trying to find something decent to watch, or at least to drown out the grating voices of his packmates.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Tez! C’mon,” Latula whines. Terezi laughs, pauses, and starts making loud, dramatic sniffing noises.

“Oh, what’s this?” she asks. Her voice gets closer and Karkat gathers what little patience he has. “Has Karkat finally let the new kid out of his room?”

Latula bursts into the room ahead of Terezi, red hair wild and a few extra bandaids decorating her arms.

“Hey new kid!” she says excitedly. “Who are you? Are you a werewolf? What’s with the bandages?”

“Uh, sup? I’m Dave,” he says. He holds out a fist and Latula grins as she bumps it with her own. “Are you a human?”

Latula huffs, crossing her arms and groaning. “Yeah, Tez got all the luck. Our dad was human so it was like a 50/50 shot but I got the short straw I guess. And Simon says I can’t get the bite ‘til I’m 18 which is totally lame.”

“It’s the law, ‘Tula,” Terezi says, smacking her sister with her cane. She pulls on her best shark-like grin, probably still trying to mess with Dave. “And you know what I do to people who break the law.”

Latula rolls her eyes, giving Dave a look that screams ‘can you believe this?’ but he’s in his own head, a frown tugging at his lips and brows drawn together. 

“‘Tula, go tell everyone it’s time to meet Dave,” Terezi says. 

Karkat immediately covers his ears, rethinks, and covers Dave’s instead. Dave gives him a weird look as Latula goes to the doorway, takes a huge breath, and screams, “COME MEET DAVE, NERDS!”

“Nice,” Terezi says. She sits in one of the chairs, content to lean back and let chaos reign around her. 

It’s not long before Kankri, Porrim, and Sollux make their way into the room. Kanaya’s car pulls up out front, so it looks like there will be at least one sane packmate here. Dave’s sitting very still next to him, anxiety rolling off him in waves.

“One at a time, assholes,” Karkat says before they can erupt into a cacophonous roar of chatter. Kanaya lets herself in and smiles at him, moving to stand with a hand on Porrim’s shoulder. “Kanaya first.”

“Hello, Dave,” Kanaya says. She doesn’t flash her eyes, as per Karkat’s instructions. She does offer a calm smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Karkat has told me next to nothing about you.”

“Ditto,” Dave says. His face is back to being blank. Karkat’s starting to recognize it as some sort of coping mechanism. 

“Kanaya’s the only person here worth knowing,” Karkat says, getting affronted looks from the kids.

“Yeah, you included, KK,” Sollux says. “I’m Sollux, the only one in this pack who’s even halfway decent with computers.”

“Bullshit,” Karkat snaps, more out of habit than anything. He used to desperately try to out-do Sollux at coding but gave up a long time ago. He’d go to the grave bitching about it, though.

“Language!” Kankri says, stomping his foot. Karkat sighs. Here we fucking go. “Honestly, Karkat, I’ve told you so many times that that sort of language isn’t acceptable! Especially when there’s--”

“OKAY KANKRI! Jesus fucking christ,” Karkat says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on, which is not unusual when his little brother is involved.

“Who’s left? Porrim? That’s Porrim,” Karkat points. “Kanaya’s sister. Okay, that was great, let’s never do this again. Now get the fuck out so we can watch a goddamn movie. Except Kanaya, you can stay.”

“Aw, c’mon Karkles, I think Dave can handle meeting a few of his future packmates,” Terezi says, which sets the kids off into a fit of giggles. Sollux takes his leave, flipping Karkat off as he goes, and Kanaya ushers the kids to the backyard. 

Dave’s been silent for a long time now, and when he finally speaks it’s to ask, “future… packmates?”

Blood rushes to Karkat’s face and he can tell by Terezi’s smile that she’s taking great pleasure in this.

“Yes? If you want?” Fuck, he sounds so unsure. He clears his throat. “You have a place here if you want it.”

Dave’s face is a stoic mask. Karkat can’t read a single thing there. His scent is the same anxious mess as before but now there’s something heavier to it. “I…”

Dave swallows, throat bobbing, and trails off. He doesn’t say anything else and Karkat’s heart sinks to the floor. He fucked up, _he fucked up_. He should have kept his mouth shut. Terezi should have kept her mouth shut. He shouldn’t have tried to introduce Dave to his family; he knew it was going to be a disaster. 

God, he just hopes this mess is salvageable. 

-

Dave is on the verge of a mental breakdown. He’s sequestered away in the guest bedroom with the door firmly shut, having closed it on Karkat’s disappointed face. He’s such a fucking asshole.

It’s been one life altering discovery after another since he got here. Is this why Bro kept him and Dirk away from werewolves after he’d been bit? Why he’d never tried to send Dave into a pack to do recon before? Did he even plan this at all, or had he heard Karkat and Nepeta plodding through the woods and grabbed Dirk, expecting Dave to die? 

It wouldn’t surprise him. He feels anger roar to life inside of him, only to be snuffed out the next moment, leaving him numb and tired.

God, Dave doesn’t know anything, does he? Just how isolated had Bro kept him? He hadn’t known humans could be born into werewolf packs, hadn’t know there was some sort of _law_ regarding the age at which people could be bit. Dave was bit at 16.

Why had he never heard any of this from the hunters Bro brought him around? All those dive bars, the pool halls, the fucking fighting rings; he’d never heard any of this shit before. Are hunters even _good_? Dave has never second guessed it; they were ridding the world of creatures that killed humans.

Is it just werewolves? Are they the exception to the rule, that all supernatural things are monsters? How many innocents has Dave killed, thinking them evil, soulless? 

And Karkat had offered him a place in his pack. He’s not the Alpha, but his father is. Is he allowed to do that? What does that even entail? Are werewolves usually this… hospitable?

Guilt churns in his stomach, making him feel sick. He wants to run to the bathroom and puke up his lunch, but he has no doubt that Karkat will be there the second he steps into the hallway, trying to make sure he’s alright.

He was gonna kill these people yesterday. He was gonna hand them over to Bro without batting an eye in hopes of maybe getting an approving nod and, if he was lucky, some cash to buy him and Dirk dinner. 

He really is a monster, isn’t he?

He has to tell Karkat. Soon, because no doubt Bro is itching to attack, decimate another pack, and head back to claim his bounty on that stupid fucking ghoul. God, Karkat is going to kill him, isn’t he? And if not him then the Alpha. He’s gonna be ripped to shreds, and he’ll deserve it. A harsh laugh is ripped from him as he thinks about Karkat realizing Dave was right before, he really is a waste of medicine.

Dave won’t even put up a fight. He doesn’t want to fight these people. He’s worried about Dirk, though. He doesn’t want to leave him alone with Bro. A day or two is nothing; Dirk's old enough to handle himself for that long. But any longer and Dave feels anxiety starting to overwhelm him.

For the first time in years, Dave thinks about his sister. She split before he even Turned, but remembering it is like opening a fresh wound. She’d tried to convince him to leave with her, but Dave was too stubborn. There wasn’t enough room at her friend’s place for all three of them, and Dave would never leave Dirk behind.

A week after she left, he was bitten, and he could never work up the courage to reach out to her after that. 

But family is family, and Rose would look after Dirk if only to spite Bro, Dave knows that much. He just… has to figure out how to contact her.

He tries to pull himself together. He takes deep breaths until his hands stop shaking. He can still smell Karkat’s scent lingering in the room, like warm chocolate, and he focuses on that until his chest doesn’t feel so tight, until his heart isn’t beating in his ears. Things have changed, but he still has a job to do and people to protect. Just not the ones he originally thought.

He leaves the guest bedroom, feeling far away from himself, and heads down the hallway to Karkat’s room. The door isn’t closed all the way but Dave raises his hand to knock anyway. It swings open before he gets the chance, revealing Karkat, looking up at him with a worried expression.

It’s crazy how expressive Karkat is. He wears his emotions on his sleeve for the world to see and isn’t scared or ashamed of it. Dave thought it was some kind of trick at first, but now he thinks Karkat is just… like that.

“Dave? Are you okay?”

Karkat’s got a really nice face. It’s usually twisted into some sort of scowl or frown, but it kind of suits him. He’s got that ‘date me to piss off your dad’ vibe going on. 

“I’m fine,” Dave says, realizing he’s been staring at Karkat for too long. “Can I use your phone?”

Karkat doesn’t even hesitate, his hand just immediately goes to his pocket and he hands it over. Dave swallows harshly. Karkat is too trusting. It’ll get him into trouble one day.

“Are you gonna call your brother?” Karkat asks. Dave shakes his head.

“Gonna try to message my sister, actually.” He doesn’t know why he says that. Keeping Rose and Dirk hidden from creatures is second nature; it means there’s less they can use against him. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

He takes the phone back to the room and closes the door. He has to download pesterchum, but he still remembers all his login info. He’s greeted with four years of message notifications, which he numbly dismisses. 

He stares at Rose’s handle for a long time. He can still hear her voice in his head, angry and frustrated and done; with life, with him, with Bro.

_We’re not his parents, Dave!_

_I’m not his mom, you’re not his dad! We’re sixteen! We should be procrastinating homework and angsting over our sexualities alongside our peers!_

_Come with me. Both of you. We can get away from him._

But Bro would never have let all three of them escape. The only reason he was fine with Rose leaving was because she’d always been a bit too curious, a bit too enraptured by magic and all it brings. 

Taking another deep, calming breath, he clicks on her username. The last message is from nearly six months ago, wishing him a happy birthday. Tears prick at his eyes, but he blinks them away. He hasn’t cried from anything but intense physical pain since he was nine years old and he isn’t going to start again now.

TG: hey rose  
TG: its been awhile  
TG: i don’t even know if you still use this account but i hope so bc i need your help  
TG: i know i dont deserve it but im in trouble  
TG: and i need you to get dirk away from bro if something bad happens to me  
TG: something bad is probably gonna happen to me  
TG: ive been a real fuck up huh  
TG: i guess i shouldnt be surprised since you tried to tell me and youre like almost always right  
TG: anyway   
TG: im sorry

He sends her his location and the name of the motel Bro had checked them into before all this started. It’s all he can do. He doubts she has the same number, and even if she did he can’t remember what it is. He has no idea where she’s at, what she’s doing. He’s such an awful brother.

He closes the chat and hesitates, eyes landing on John’s handle. It’s been so long since they last talked. Does John even remember him? They used to be best friends. For a while there John was the only connection to ‘normal’ that Dave had. He’d obsessively hidden any mention of the supernatural from him, spinning a story about a rad, but normal, family life.

Maybe it wasn’t the best foundation for a friendship, but it was something that kept Dave grounded when he needed it most. And, looking back, he’s pretty sure he had a huge crush on John, before he was Turned and his sexuality became subject to whatever person Bro needed information from.

The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he closes the app. John is probably fine. He’s probably living a great life. He probably doesn’t even use pesterchum anymore. 

Dave considers uninstalling the app, but ultimately decides to keep it. Rose might try to message him back, for one thing. And maybe, if he’s lucky, he might be able to convince Karkat that she doesn’t have anything to do with this, that she’s just gonna grab Dirk and go. 

God dammit, he hopes he didn’t just put her in danger.

Gathering his courage, he heads back to Karkat’s room. The door opens slower this time; he actually has time to knock first. He hands Karkat’s phone back to him and bites his lip.

“I need to talk to you,” he says. Karkat’s face falls, but he nods and steps aside, ushering Dave into his room. He closes the door behind him.

Karkat’s room smells like him. Warm and safe, like what Dave would imagine a home smells like. There’s an overflowing basket of dirty clothes, a surprisingly neat desk, and a ton of movie posters covering the walls. Will Smith features prominently, and even with the weight of his fate heavy on his shoulders Dave manages a small smile.

“Celebrity crush?” he asks.

“Shut up,” Karkat says, blushing. He looks at Dave warily. “What did you want to talk about?”

Dave’s head feels fuzzy. There are too many contradictions happening inside him right now. Fear and adrenaline pulse through him while Karkat’s scent makes him feel drowsy and safe. Dave’s standing closer to him than he would anyone else. It’s something that’s been happening subconsciously, he’s realized, and he doesn’t know why. He’s scared and confused and Karkat’s looking at him with deep, concerned brown eyes, and he’s pretty sure that once he tells Karkat everything he’ll hate him, if not outright kill him.

So Dave takes a breath and steps forward, fisting his hand in Karkat’s sweater and leaning down, pressing their lips together.

Might as well make the most of it.

Karkat’s lips are soft and perfect. Dave expects to be pushed back, or at best for him to remain still until Dave pulls back. But Karkat inhales sharply, hands reaching up and burying themselves in Dave’s hair, and kisses him back.

Holy shit. Karkat licks at the seam of Dave’s mouth, then captures his lower lip between his teeth and tugs gently. God damn. Dave’s head is full of cotton when he opens his mouth and Karkat slips his tongue inside, exploring him. Dave sucks on his tongue and Karkat moans and the sound zips straight down to his dick.

It’s Karkat that pulls back first, but he immediately begins placing kisses along Dave’s jaw, moving slowly up until he can lick and nip at Dave’s earlobe. One of his arms slips around Dave’s waist, pulling him closer, and Dave’s heart clenches painfully in his chest. 

“Karkat,” Dave pants, as Karkat moves down his neck. He stops briefly when he gets to the bandage and there’s a gentle pressure there. Dave’s hands clench as he realizes Karkat placed a soft kiss on it before he continues on his way, finding the junction between Dave’s neck and shoulder and biting. Dave's hips jolt forward of their own accord. “Kah-Karkat. Wait, I gotta--I gotta tell you something.”

It’s hard to think straight (hah). His blood feels hot under his skin and he’s already hard, his dick tenting his borrowed sweatpants. He doesn’t feel entirely present, like he could float away if it weren’t for Karkat’s big, warm hands keeping him tethered to the ground.

“Later,” Karkat says, voice rough, and kisses him hard. It’s easy to get lost in him, the taste, the warm line of his body pressed against Dave’s, his hand slipping up under Dave’s shirt—Karkat's shirt, that he's wearing. Why is that so hot? 

Later. Okay, yeah, Dave can do later.

He presses into Karkat, a little whine breaking free from his throat, and rolls his hips into Karkat’s own, getting that delicious friction he needs. And yeah, yep, Karkat is definitely getting hard too. This is definitely happening.

It’s difficult to be anxious when Karkat’s making the most amazing noises. Dave swallows every single one down, commits each soft gasp and moan to memory, determined to enjoy this.

“Bed,” Dave says, his hands drifting lower and squeezing Karkat’s ass. “Let’s—bed.”

Karkat laughs and it’s the best thing Dave’s ever heard. Karkat pushes him until the backs of Dave’s knees hit the bed and he falls, landing softly. Karkat grins down at him and gently plucks the shades from his face and places them carefully on his bedside table. Dave scoots back on the bed and Karkat climbs over him, still smiling.

It’s so soft and affectionate that Dave can’t take it. He pulls Karkat down into a searing kiss, hips jolting upward, grinding their dicks together. It’s so perfect Dave thinks he might be able to cum just from this, from Karkat’s weight pinning him to the mattress and dry humping like teenagers, but Karkat pulls back. 

He runs a hand through Dave’s hair, and it might be the softest anyone’s ever touched him before. Karkat’s frowning and anxiety crawls up Dave’s spine. Did he do something wrong? Does Karkat want to stop?

“No over-exerting yourself,” Karkat tells him seriously. Dave’s mouth falls open.

“No—are you kidding me?” Dave asks, voice breaking embarrassingly. 

Karkat scowls but his eyes are soft. “No, I’m not fucking kidding. Diedra will kill us both if you don’t follow her instructions.” He presses a kiss to Dave’s mouth, his cheek, his nose. “You’re hurt. Let me take care of you.”

Oh. 

Jesus christ, is Karkat even real? Has this whole thing been some sort of dying fever dream, and he’s still stuck out in those woods with the ghoul? How can someone be so— so soft, and hold onto to that? It’s so much more than Dave deserves, and he’s so fucking selfish for letting it happen, for wanting it.

“Okay,” he says quietly, swallowing down his emotions. 

Karkat smiles and it’s like watching the sunrise after a long, harrowing night. Dave’s heart thuds loudly in his chest, and it hurts, but it’s a good hurt, and he realizes that he might be further gone on Karkat than he thought.

“Good,” Karkat tells him. He kisses Dave again. It’s just kissing but it makes him feel shuddery in the best way. He feels like he could do this for hours and never get tired of it, let Karkat kiss him until the stars go dark and he’ll still be wanting more. His hand runs through Karkat’s hair, tangling in the soft, messy curls, and the other runs down his back.

Karkat’s a fucking hottie, and Dave’s a scrawny, malnourished mess. He’s always been thin but he used to have a decent amount of muscle that’s vanished over the years; probably because of the silver, who knew? The point is, he’s not sure what Karkat’s getting out of this. Dave used to be pretty attractive but he’s… not so much, anymore, and Karkat wants Dave to lay back and let him do all the work. It doesn’t seem fair. 

“Off,” Karkat demands, pulling at the hem of Dave’s shirt. Dave hesitates, and in that time Karkat takes off his own shirt, revealing miles of dark skin pulled taut over muscles that belong on the cover of a magazine. Dave’s mouth waters just looking at him, and Karkat raises an eyebrow, tugging at his shirt again. “Do you want a written invitation?”

“So romantic, Karkat, I’m swooning,” Dave says, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He sits up and Karkat practically rips the sweater off of him. Dave falls back onto the bed, a small laugh surprised out of him. “Dude, that’s your shirt y’know.”

Karkat doesn’t answer, eyes traveling across Dave’s chest and down his stomach. Dave squirms, wondering what he sees. He’s got scars from hunting monsters (monsters?) and from training with Bro, and none of them are very pleasant to look at. Some are red and raised, others pale and flat, but they’re all over him. His ribs are visible even without sucking in and every inch of skin that isn’t covered in scars is splattered with freckles.

“These look like they hurt,” Karkat says, fingers trailing along one of the scars on Dave’s side. Dave shakes his head.

“Nah, not anymore,” he says. It’s mostly true. Some of them will ache, occasionally, but mostly they just mar his skin. 

Karkat doesn’t have a single scar on him. Dave’s hands feel across his chest, down his abs, and he lightly rubs his palm against Karkat’s crotch, grinning at the startled noise he makes. But then Karkat grabs his hand, interlacing their fingers, and brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. Dave’s heart skips a beat.

“You said you wanted romance,” Karkat laughs, smug. His free hand runs up and down Dave’s side, just enough pressure not to tickle.

“Did I say that?” Dave thinks he might be shaking. His dick throbs in his pants. How is this effecting him so much? Karkat’s barely touched him at all, but he feels like he’s about to fall apart. Karkat’s hand runs over his chest, catching a nipple, and Dave breathes in sharply. Karkat grins down at him like he’s won something, and maybe he has, what the fuck does Dave know?

Karkat leans down, pressing his warm lips to the center of Dave’s chest, and licks and kisses his way over to Dave’s nipple, flicking it with his tongue while his free hand—the one not still linked with Dave’s, held to the bed by the side of Dave’s face—rubs circles around the other. 

Dave gasps and arches, sharp bursts of pleasure pulsing through him like there’s a direct line from his nips to his dick. His hands twitch and squeeze, out of his control, and Karkat takes a moment to lead Dave’s free hand to his hair before his nimble fingers go back to torturing him wonderfully. 

“I-if this is romance then—shit, dude,” Dave groans as Karkat rolls the hardened nub between his lips, “then sign me the fuck up, I’ve been missing out. Thought I w-was gettin’ the full experience but turns out I’m just a chump.”

Karkat looks at him, amused, and finally lets up on his abused chest. Dave’s breathing hard like he just ran a marathon. Karkat sits back up and Dave’s hand falls from his messy hair to his muscular thigh. Shit, how often did this dude work out? He’s Dave’s wettest wet dream brought to life.

“You’re really fucking sensitive,” Karkat tells him, something like awe and approval in his tone. Dave would blush if all his blood wasn’t currently contained entirely in his dick. His hips try to twitch up again but it’s in vain; Karkat’s got them pinned to the bed and he doesn’t seem like he’ll be moving any time soon.

Dave can’t stop the whine that builds in his throat. He’s probably making a complete ass out of himself right now, but he doesn’t think he’s been this affected by anyone in his life. His core feels molten, every nerve in his body alight and waiting. It’s overwhelming in the best way and he both desperately needs more but wants to draw it out for as long as he can. 

Dave’s had sex before, plenty of times, sometimes even with people he was attracted to. But none of that compares to how Karkat touches him, draws noises from his mouth that he didn’t even know he could make.

“Dude, c’mon,” Dave pants, desperately trying to get some sort of friction against his dick. He’s too fucking close already but if he doesn’t get some sort of relief he’s gonna lose his mind. “Fucking—touch me, _please_.”

“You just had to ask,” Karkat tells him, the little shit. He leans down and kisses Dave, capturing the moan that’s ripped out of him when Karkat grinds his hips down. Dave’s eyes roll back, because yes, fuck yes, that’s exactly what he needs, god bless Karkat and his amazing body and delicious, intoxicating smell and heart-melting smile.

“You smell so fucking good,” Dave mumbles, pulling Karkat further on top of him, wanting to feel his weight. He buries his head in the crook of Karkat’s neck, taking a long inhale and feeling his head go fuzzy as he breathes him in. Everything feels so good right now, all his anxiety is so far away. There’s only himself and Karkat and this amazing, wonderful scent.

Karkat’s skin is soft against his own and he’s making some sort of noise that vibrates in his chest. Is he purring? Dave would laugh if he wasn’t busy sucking on Karkat’s neck, getting lost in the noises Karkat makes against his ear.

Dave isn’t going to last much longer. He can feel his orgasm building in his lower abdomen, but he can’t clear his head enough to warn Karkat, to tell him to stop. He doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to, because his mouth feels weird, too small somehow. And as a wave of pleasure crashes down on him, Dave sinks his teeth into the meat between Karkat’s neck and shoulder.

He trembles through his orgasm, hand scrambling for purchase against Karkat’s back, and when he comes back to himself enough to unclamp his jaw he tastes blood in his mouth.

He jerks back, head hitting the pillow, and feels his teeth shrink back to their normal size. Karkat stares down at him with wide, shocked brown eyes, but Dave can’t tear his gaze away from the blood on Karkat’s neck. The wound he’d made is already healing over, and is gone in a matter of seconds, but it leaves a scar behind. 

A scar. On Karkat’s neck. Where Dave bit him.

Dave doesn’t even have time to panic before a bright, shining grin breaks across Karkat’s face, like Dave losing control and fucking biting his neck is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Maybe it’s a normal thing werewolves do when they fuck? Maybe the scar on Karkat’s neck will fade in a few minutes, maybe tasting blood in your mouth when you cum is just an average everyday thing.

His heart is still trying to beat out of his chest when Karkat swoops down, laughing, and presses kisses all over his face. His forehead, his nose, his cheeks, the corners of his eyes, his temples. And finally, breathless, he presses their lips together, firm but gentle. When he pulls back his eyes are so affectionate Dave doesn’t know how to handle it.

“I’d bite you back but we should wait until your healing abilities return,” Karkat says, pecking him on the lips once more before he starts licking and sucking at Dave’s neck, below the bandage, the same spot where Dave bit him. 

Slowly, the terror drains out of him. It must really be a werewolf thing, if Karkat’s talking about biting him back. The thought makes his gut clench unpleasantly, since the last time a werewolf’s teeth were anywhere near him it didn’t turn out so well. But he pushes that thought far away. Only good thoughts for now. 

His eyes flutter closed and he tilts his head, giving Karkat better access to mark him up. It feels really fucking good, actually, even if having Karkat pressed against his crotch sends jolts of overstimulation up his spine. And Karkat grinding his hips down isn’t helping.

Oh shit, yeah, Karkat hasn’t cum yet. Christ, how self-centered is Dave, forgetting that? He places his hand on Karkat’s broad shoulder and pushes. He barely has to apply any pressure at all before Karkat pulls back, looking at him with concern. It’s so fucking sweet that Dave laughs.

“You didn’t get off yet, dude,” he says, urging Karkat to sit up. “Let me touch you.”

He reaches for the waistband of Karkat’s pants, intending to get very familiar with his junk, but Karkat grabs his wrist, right above the bandage, frowning.

“You’re hurt,” he says, moving Dave’s hand aside.

“Oh my god,” Dave groans. “Why are you cockblocking yourself? Karkat, I’m _fine_.”

Dave… might not be entirely fine. There’s been a constant low-level ache in his body for at least a year now, maybe more, but since the bracelets (shackles?) have come off it’s amplified. Any repetitive motion for a decent period of time might actually be hella painful but. Fuck, he wants to touch Karkat so bad.

“Stop whining,” Karkat rolls his eyes, still smiling, and brings a hand down to palm himself through his pants. Dave’s mouth goes dry at the sight.

“Oh fuck,” he says eloquently.

Karkat lifts himself up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one go, letting his dick spring free, and what a glorious dick it is. His might be longer but Karkat’s is thick and beading precum and Dave wants it in his mouth, on his tongue, fucking into his throat. 

Karkat wraps his hand around it, pumping it a few times, smearing the precum around the head. He tilts his head back and moans, drawing Dave’s eyes back to the scar he put there. Guilt swirls in his gut but it’s overtaken by something stronger, something whispering _mine_ in the back of his head.

“Shit dude, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” Dave says, feeling his dick twitch in a valiant attempt to get back in the game. Karkat smirks down at him, releasing his dick and reaching his hand out until it’s right in Dave’s face, fingers against his lips.

Karkat raises an eyebrow at him and Dave lets his mouth fall open, tongue flicking out to lick the pads of his fingertips. Karkat pushes his fingers into Dave’s mouth and Dave sucks and licks at them like a fucking champ. When Karkat draws his hand back a thin trail of saliva connects them for a moment.

There’s drool leaking down Dave’s chin but Karkat still leans forward to kiss his swollen lips before he straightens up and wraps his saliva-covered hand back around his dick. He thrusts his hips in time, finding a brutal rhythm. Dave grabs his free hand and, in a mirror of the move Karkat pulled earlier, brings it to his mouth and kisses it. Karkat’s eyes roll back and he shouts, wordless, as he cums all over Dave’s stomach and chest.

When he’s finished he flops bonelessly on top of Dave, his weight crushing him in the best possible way. Still, it’s a bit hard to breathe.

“Dude, roll over,” Dave gasps out. “You weigh a ton.”

Karkat huffs a laugh but moves off of him. He reaches blindly alongside the bed until he finds a shirt and uses it to wipe the cum off of them both. That doesn’t help the sticky problem in Dave’s pants though. He awkwardly shimmies out of them and tosses them to the other side of the room, curling up next to Karkat and not giving a shit if he’s being clingy, for once.

“Sorry I jizzed in your pants,” he says. Karkat throws an arm around him, pulling him closer and burying his nose in Dave’s sweaty hair.

“I think I’ll get over it,” Karkat says.

Dave is tired as fuck and he just wants to take a nap, wrapped around Karkat, warm and safe and satiated. He considers it, nuzzling into Karkat’s chest. What’s a few more hours, honestly? Bro is probably still gathering information; he likes to be prepared. Dave can have this for a little longer, right?

And god, the bed feels so nice and soft beneath him. Sleeping in an actual bed the past day or two has been weird as fuck for Dave; the only time he gets to sleep in a bed is when he’s just fucked someone or when he’s positive Bro won’t be back for days and he can curl up with Dirk on their shitty motel room bed. Otherwise he sleeps on the floor or has to find somewhere outside to crash. Bro doesn’t trust him around Dirk, for obvious reasons, and Dave can still hear his voice echoing in his head, saying _dogs don’t sleep on the fuckin’ bed._

Oh shit, Karkat is saying something. Dave tries to pull his attention back to the present, but Karkat’s already stopped talking.

“Sorry, what?” Dave says, yawning. Karkat runs a hand along his back and it’s definitely not helping Dave stay awake.

“I said I can’t wait to really introduce you as my Mate,” Karkat says, holding him tighter. 

Dave frowns, pulling back a bit and blinking up at him, confused. 

“What’s a Mate?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Dave met some of Karkat's pack and Karkat took care of Dave. Dave made the decision to tell Karkat about Bro and messaged his sister for help. Before they talked, Dave and Karkat had sex and Dave unintentionally claimed Karkat with a mating bite before revealing he doesn't know anything about werewolves.

Rose Lalonde leads a busy life. She’s going to school, majoring in english literature and minoring in psychology. Half her tuition is covered by scholarships, the other half being paid by her dabblings in potions and spells. She’s one of the most sought after witches on the east coast, despite her relatively new life there.

If there’s a spell that needs doing, and doing well, look no further than Rose Lalonde. Charms, enchantments, the occasional curse or two, if she believes the situation calls for it. She’s even known to give out freebies for those who are truly desperate.

When she isn’t casting spells or working on essays, she’s hyper fixated on her notebooks, filled to the brim with rough drafts of original novels. She’ll be a published author one day, if she can ever find enough satisfaction in the finished projects to actually show them to people. It will happen, for sure, but she can’t help herself from going back over her drafts, trying to make them perfect.

She’s in the middle of such an exercise when her phone dings, letting her know someone is pestering her. She sighs, but continues writing. Whoever it is can wait.

Pesterchum is a bit of an outdated program, at this point, but she keeps it out of nostalgia. It’s where she met John, where she first talked to Roxy. It’s also the only link she has left to her twin brother, though he hasn’t logged on in years. It’s sentimental and desperate of her to hold on to, even going as far as not changing her old screen name. It might even border on unhealthy, considering she sends him a lengthy message every year on their birthday.

Ugh, reflecting on her past has gotten her all out of sorts. Now she can’t even focus on her writing.

She snaps her notebook shut and tucks away her pen before grabbing her phone. It’s probably one of the many people looking to be one of her clients that she’ll have to turn away, either because they’re too shady or want too much for too little.

But when she opens the app it’s an old, familiar name that greets her. Her heart stops and she startles so hard she drops her phone. It hits the carpet with an audible thunk and she scrambles, quite ungracefully, to scoop it back up. She opens the message with shaking fingers, already blinking back tears. She hasn’t heard from Dave in so long. She hadn’t even been sure if he was alive.

The messages are… cryptic, to say the least. And also not the long, rambling tangents she remembers from her brother. This only serves to make her more worried. The very last message contains an address in California that belongs to a run down motel, according to google.

Ah. He’s still with their father, then.

That doesn’t surprise her. Broderick Strider wanted a protege. Rose fit that bill more than Dave ever did; her brother was a lover at his core, not a fighter. But Rose had always been more taken with magic than their father liked. Dirk had only been seven when Rose left, but he’d already shown more potential as a fighter than her twin. Rose doubts their father would have ever let him go.

And Dave would never leave their little brother behind.

She opens her laptop, dips into her savings, and buys an airplane ticket for the next flight out. It costs a pretty penny, but she’s regretted letting her brothers slip from her grasp since the moment she really got out into the world and started understanding all the things their father had kept from them. She’s not letting this chance pass her by.

She throws clothes into a travel bag. She messages her professors, citing a family emergency. She texts the members of her coven, and her clients. She calls an uber.

Two hours later she’s on a plane, and six hours after that she’s landing in sunny California. Interestingly enough, the area where Dave’s motel is located is just on the edge of a prominent werewolf pack, which could only spell trouble.

The idea that Dave is still a rogue hunter leaves a bad taste in her mouth. She wonders if he knows, but she doubts it. Dave was soft, for all his posturing and attempts to be otherwise. Softer, perhaps, than he should have been. Knowingly killing innocent creatures? He would never.

Or rather, the brother she knew would never. It’s been four years, after all.

Her uber driver drops her off in front of the motel, and she’s never been here before but it brings back so many memories. It looks just like the ones she and Dave would be left in for days as children, cuddled together on the same lumpy bed, quietly whispering stories to each other and hoping Bro would return soon with food. And, later, after they were old enough ( _old enough_ , hah. They were _children_ ), where they would return to patch each other up after a hunt.

Rose did research, after she escaped. She devoured every new bit of information about the real world and, when that just led to more questions, she delved into her father’s history, since he never bothered to tell them anything. 

He and their mother were hunters; real hunters, who followed and enforced the law. Then their mother was killed by… something, only two years after their birth, and their father went rogue, taking her and her twin with him. The next fourteen or so years their father spent making sure the name Strider had quite the stigma attached to it, at least for supernaturals.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Rose marches up to the door marked number six. The paint is peeling and there’s quite the terrible smell wafting towards her, but she raises her hand and knocks sharply. 

She sees the curtains twitch and, a few moments later, the door slowly opens. A young man stands there, short and skinny, tanned and wearing pointy shades. His hair is gelled into a ridiculous shape and one hand is hidden behind his back, likely holding some sort of weapon. She wonders what it is. Rose had always gone for a silver tipped knitting needle, while Dave preferred the less subtle approach, carrying around a sword like their father preferred. Neither of them ever let Dirk answer the door before she escaped.

Rose smiles, black painted lips turning up at the corners.

“Hello, Dirk. Do you remember me?”

-

Karkat had never been happier than when Dave kissed him. Dave had been acting strange since Terezi had opened her fucking mouth about joining the pack, and had left Karkat to stew for a good awhile before showing up at his door to borrow his phone. Then, when he came back, he kissed Karkat.

Karkat’s heart soared, and he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in for more, and more, and more, until they were together on the bed, Dave writhing beneath him and.

And.

Dave _bit_ him. Claimed him, and Karkat felt the bond settle around him, his wolf fucking preening because his Mate chose him. He wanted nothing more than to claim Dave back, leave a mark for everyone to see, but Dave was still healing. So Karkat allowed himself to mark Dave’s neck up with hickeys, instead, as a placeholder for what would come.

And Dave was a cuddler, apparently, because after he shed his borrowed pants he burrowed into Karkat’s side, warm against him, smelling happy and sleepy and perfect.

Then Dave asked, “What’s a Mate?” and it all came crashing down.

Karkat lays frozen for a moment before flinching back, but Dave’s got his arms around him and jerking out of his grasp would likely cause him pain. Alarm bells blaring in his mind, Karkat tries to gently disentangle them, but Dave frowns and clings to him harder.

“Karkat? What’s wrong? What did I do?” Dave’s voice is tight with concern and it makes Karkat’s heart clench painfully.

But if Dave doesn’t know what a Mate is (how could he not know?) then it means Dave didn’t choose him; it was an accident. Dave doesn’t want him, doesn’t want his pack, doesn’t want this bond. 

And what _does_ Dave know, if he doesn’t know what Mates are? Puzzle pieces are slotting into place as he thinks about all the confusing things Dave has or, more specifically, hasn’t done. He never flashes his eyes; he hasn’t tried to scent mark Karkat a single time; he’s uncomfortable around other werewolves.

He wears silver-lined shackles to help him keep control.

Has Dave even interacted with another wolf before? Besides the one that bit him? Karkat had just assumed that _of course_ he had, but, thinking about it critically, it doesn’t make sense. Not a single werewolf alive would let Dave continue wearing those monstrous devices. 

And Karkat had been so caught up in having a Mate, in trying to make sure Dave was safe and healthy and had a place here that he didn’t even stop to think.

“Karkat!” Dave says sharply. He rolls on top of Karkat and he’s so fucking light it’s like he’s not even there. He grabs Karkat’s face between his hands and squishes his cheeks. “Karkat, c’mon, it’s weird when you’re not talking. What did I do? What’s a Mate?”

Dave’s red eyes are bright and vivid and beautiful. His face is drawn in worry as he stares at Karkat. Karkat’s arms wrap around his waist and he shakes his head until Dave lets go, then he leans up and kisses him softly. How confused must Dave be? Drawn magnetically to a piece of shit like _Karkat_ with no clear reason why.

Karkat lets the kiss linger, because it might be the last one, then lets his head drop to the pillow with a sigh. If Dave is going to reject him, he might as well have a full understanding first.

“An easy explanation is that Mates are the werewolf version of significant others,” Karkat says. “It’s more than that though. You know that wolves mate for life?” He waits for Dave to nod. “That’s a myth, actually, but it’s true for werewolves. Most of the time, anyway. There are exceptions.”

Karkat heaves a sigh, his breath making Dave’s bangs flutter back. “It’s hard to explain. There’s… magic involved, I guess. Werewolves can usually tell who’s compatible with them by smell. Sometimes people smell great, others smell awful, and the ones who smell good are usually the ones you click with. But sometimes there are people who smell so good it’s like… that’s The One. It’s rare, but it happens, and a lot of the time it overrides any sort of logic.”

Karkat watches Dave’s face carefully throughout his explanation. His expression morphs from confusion to interest to realization, and he sits back on Karkat’s legs, heavily, looking dazed. But Karkat isn’t done.

“What you did…” he raises a hand to his neck, touching the mark Dave gave him, stomach in knots. “It’s a mating bite. It’s the first step in officially bonding. There’s usually a ceremony, but…”

But Karkat had been so overjoyed that Dave wanted him back that he hadn’t actually paused to think about all the plans he’s had his whole life for his ceremony, if he was ever lucky to find someone willing to put up with him. 

“Holy shit,” Dave whispers, eyes wide. “Dude, did we just get werewolf married?”

Karkat can’t resist a broken laugh at that, squeezing his eyes shut to try to hold back his tears. 

“No,” he says. “I didn’t bite you back. The bond isn’t complete.”

When he opens his eyes, Dave is staring down at him contemplatively. His hand touches the darkening bruise Karkat left on his neck. “But you want to?”

Karkat feels caught, trapped beneath Dave’s gaze. Dave already knows the answer; why is he putting Karkat through this? Of all the things Dave is, he didn’t seem to be cruel.

“Yeah,” Karkat admits roughly. His eyes burn with tears and he doesn’t bother blinking them away. He waits for Dave’s rejection with bated breath.

Instead, Dave bites his lip and looks down at himself and gives a little laugh that makes Karkat’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Can I get some more clothes?” Dave asks. “I… really gotta tell you something, Karkat.”

“You have to get off of me first,” Karkat tells him. He could easily move Dave himself but he doesn’t want to risk hurting him. Dave smiles down at him, despite the building anxiety in his scent.

“I will if you let go of me,” Dave replies, glancing pointedly at Karkat’s hands, which are wrapped around his hips and rubbing gentle, calming circles there with his thumbs. He didn’t even realize he was doing it. He blushes, releasing his hold, and Dave stands up, stretching. Karkat watches him move appreciatively, eyes traveling from his shoulders down his back, landing on his ass. He’s too skinny; clearly starving, but now that he’s here (if he chooses to stay) they can fix that. Dave glances at him and catches him staring, his lips turning up into a smile. “Dude, c’mon. I’ll let you look at me all you want later.” His smile falls. “If you still want to.”

Karkat frowns. He stands up and grabs some clean clothes for Dave and a new sweater for himself. He throws the dirty clothes in the hamper, making a note to get to that quickly before the smell of spunk becomes overbearing. 

“Dave I just fucking explained to you that we’re what amounts to in werewolf culture as soulmates,” Karkat says, rolling his eyes and returning to plop down on his bed. Dave hesitantly takes the chair at his desk. “Nothing you can say is going to change that.”

“Sure, dude,” Dave says, clearly not believing him. His eyes flick to his sunglasses, still sitting on Karkat’s table, and Karkat passes them over. Dave fiddles with them for a few moments, but ultimately shakes his head and puts them aside, to Karkat’s surprise. 

Dave takes a deep breath. “Look, I… haven’t been entirely truthful with you. All of you. When I was out there fighting that ghoul I wasn’t alone. I was with Bro--I mean we call him Bro but he’s my dad, I guess--and my little brother, Dirk. He’s eleven.”

“O...kay,” Karkat says slowly, trying to figure out why Dave is so afraid to share this.

“Don’t look at me like that, that’s not the--” Dave cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair. He starts over. “Look, I just. We’re hunters, all three of us.”

Karkat stiffens, a sense of dread slowly filling his veins. He slowly asks, “You and your father and your… eleven year old brother are hunters?” 

Dave nods sharply, swallowing nervously. Karkat stares at him. “Dave. How old were you when you became a hunter?”

Dave’s eyebrows draw together, clearly not expecting the question. “I don’t know, man, like six maybe? Seven? That’s not the point, the point is--”

Karkat shakes his head. “No, Dave, listen. Hunters aren’t--You have to have a fucking license to be a hunter. There’s a whole training process and an exam. You have to be eighteen to even sign up. A fucking six year old can’t be a hunter!”

Dave stares at him, mouth hanging open.

Karkat barrels ahead. “It used to be like that hundreds of years ago, before everything settled and laws were agreed on. The kind of hunter you’re talking about; they’re called rogues. Real hunters only hunt things who’ve hurt someone.”

God, and Dave’s been living with a rogue since he turned into a werewolf? No wonder their solution was to slap silver on him. It’s a fucking miracle the rogue didn’t kill him the moment he was bit. Rogues are a dying breed, but they’re vicious and vindictive and kill supernaturals without remorse, even the innocent ones. 

And Dave was raised by one. Part of Karkat wonders if perhaps his gut feeling about Dave is wrong; if there’s brutality hidden under there somewhere. But his instincts say no, Dave is his, Dave needs to be protected, and those instincts are so overwhelming that Karkat has to take a deep, steadying breath and try to center himself. Is it the half-formed bond thinking for him? He doesn’t think so but it’s hard to be sure.

Dave is muttering under his breath, words slurring together so quickly that Karkat can’t make any sense of them. The more Dave talks the clearer it becomes that he’s not okay, that he likely hasn’t been okay his whole life. Fuck, no wonder he constantly smelled like fear and anxiety. How scared must he be constantly? Of his father, of himself, of Karkat and his pack. It’s heartbreaking.

He clears his throat and Dave’s eyes snap back up to him.

“I--Okay, even if you’re telling the truth,” Dave says, like he’s doubtful, and Karkat feels a pang of pity for him. “That’s still _not the point_. The point is you and your pack are in danger. Bro, he’s… He was here for the ghoul but he heard about the pack and he wants to take you out.”

Karkat nods, but this only agitates Dave further. “No, Karkat, you don’t understand! Bro is crazy good at hunting, and he won’t stop until everyone is dead.”

“Dave,” Karkat says, trying to inject calm into his voice. “It’s okay. I believe you. We’ll go talk to my dad right now, okay? We’ll warn everyone, we’ll have a pack meeting. We’ll call the hunters and let them know and they’ll take care of it.”

Karkat stands up, walking over to Dave and putting his hands on Dave’s shoulders. He’s shaking imperceptibly. He smells terrified and Karkat isn’t sure if it’s the thought of his father or Karkat’s reaction he’s afraid of more.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, leaning down and pressing his lips to Dave’s forehead. 

They’ve dealt with rogues before. A group of them, not just one (two, if he counts the eleven year old), like Dave is talking about. It’s how Terezi lost her sight, how her and Latula’s parents died. Vriska lost her arm and Tavros is still trying to recover the use of his legs. But they made it through then and they will now.

“C’mon,” Karkat says, pulling Dave up and wrapping an arm around his waist. Dave leans on him heavily and Karkat bites his lip. He’s not supposed to be overexerting himself, but they just had sex and not one but _two_ serious talks, with another shortly to follow. Karkat grabs his shades and hands them to Dave, who clumsily slips them on his face.

“Goin’ to see your dad?” Dave asks as Karkat leads them out of the room. When Karkat hums an affirmative Dave says quietly, “Do we gotta?”

Karkat’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest. “Yeah, we gotta. He’s not gonna hurt you, baby.”

Dave sighs, but he doesn’t reply. Sollux pokes his head out of his room, nose scrunched up, and Karkat remembers that they probably still reek of sex. But he takes one look at them and heads across the hall to Terezi’s room.

Dave’s energy is seriously flagging, now, and Karkat feels guilty as fuck as he helps him down the stairs and to his dad’s office. But there’s no doubt his dad is gonna have more questions for Dave than Karkat did, and the thought of his dad making Dave feel unsafe in his room makes Karkat want to snarl. 

He knocks on his dad’s door and he’s clearly in a mood already when he swings it open, eyebrows pinched and shoulders tense. His nose wrinkles as he takes them in and he rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Karkat, we have a shower for a reason. If you’re going to--”

“Dad,” Karkat interrupts. Simon raises an eyebrow at him. “This is serious, let us in.”

Simon steps aside, allowing them past, and Karkat helps Dave into one of the chairs. He tries to step back and Dave’s hand clenches tightly in his sweater before dropping to his side, and Karkat takes the chair next to him and intertwines their fingers. Simon walks around to the other side of his desk and sits down, eyes flicking between Karkat’s neck and Dave’s, clearly concerned.

But that’s a talk he can have with his dad on his own time. 

“Dave’s Bro is a rogue,” Karkat says, cutting to the chase. His father’s jaw clenches and Karkat’s overcome with a sense of relief. He knew his dad would take it seriously; he’s the Alpha, of course he would. But seeing it happen in front of his eyes is exactly what he needed. “He thinks the pack is in danger.”

Simon looks at Dave and Dave stares back, poker face and shades firmly in place. His scent is wild with anxiety, however. Karkat wonders if Dave is even aware of this. They’re going to have to sit down and really talk about what Dave does and doesn’t know, probably even set up some sort of introduction to the supernatural world.

“How dangerous is he?” Simon asks finally, breaking the silence. Dave’s shoulders slump.

“He’s smart and determined,” Dave says. “We came here to hunt the ghoul but he heard about the pack. There’s not even a bounty on you guys, he just hates werewolves.” Dave shifts in his seat awkwardly. “I’ve never seen him back down from anything; he just comes back with a new strategy. He’s really good at what he does. He’s also got my little brother with him.”

“A child?” Simon says, frowning. “That complicates things.”

Dave swallows harshly and says, “don’t hurt him. Please. You can do what you want to me but--”

“Dave,” Simon interrupts, glancing quickly at Karkat as a growl builds in his throat. “We don’t hurt children, and we won’t hurt you. You’re my son’s Mate, you have a place here. And so does your little brother, should he want it. From what I’ve seen so far you seem to be a bright young man who has been horrifically mistreated. I won’t punish you for that.”

Dave doesn’t move. Karkat thinks he doesn’t even breathe for a long moment until all the tension leaves his body and he sinks down in his seat a couple inches. Karkat squeezes his hand reassuringly and gets a weak squeeze back in return.

“There is one issue, however,” Simon says, grabbing a folder from his desk and rummaging through it. “We’re running a background check on you, and so far nothing’s pointed at all to being involved with rogues.”

“Oh,” Dave says. “Yeah, I gave a fake last name. Bro built me that identity years ago. It’ll check out.”

Simon hums, glancing down at his folder once more before closing it and setting it down. “And your real last name?”

“Strider,” Dave says. 

His voice is heavy with fatigue but Karkat feels a jolt of terror run through him at the name and, looking at his father, knows he feels the same. Holy shit. Holy fuck. Strider.

“Karkat,” Simon says, voice tight. “Take Dave back upstairs. I have some calls to make.”

Karkat nods, feeling as though he’s in shock. He pulls Dave to his feet and helps him out the door. 

Strider. They’re so fucking fucked.

The thing is, Strider isn’t _just_ smart and determined. He’s ruthless. Karkat has heard stories, from when the hunters were working with the pack against the rogues and from the adults when Karkat was a kid. Strider leaves corpses in his wake, bodies mutilated over days of torture sessions. They aren’t sure if it’s for information or if he just enjoys it, but the results are horrific.

And Dave is related to him. He’s his _son_. Karkat can’t imagine growing up with a monster like that. Is that where Dave got his scars? He’s got so many of them; is his father the cause?

“‘Kat?” Dave says sleepily. “Y’okay?” 

Karkat tries to calm down, level out his scent so Dave won’t worry. “I’m fine, Dave.”

“You’re bein’ quiet again,” Dave mutters, nuzzling his face into Karkat’s hair as they finally make it to his room. It’s such a little action but it’s the first thing even resembling scent marking Dave’s done to him and Karkat wants to puff his chest out in pride, wear it as a badge of honor. _My Mate wants me, my Mate wants to stay_. But it’s more complicated than that.

“Just worried,” Karkat admits as he softly drops Dave onto the bed. “I’ll be back to my bitchy self soon enough.”

“Mmm,” Dave agrees, removing his shades and curling up on his side. Karkat covers him with a soft blanket and Dave’s hand reaches out, snagging his sweater. “Stay?”

Oh, Karkat is so fucked.

“Just until you fall asleep,” he agrees, running his fingers through Dave’s hair. It only takes a few more moments before Dave’s breathing evens out and he starts to snore lightly. Karkat allows himself a few extra seconds of love-sick gazing at his Mate, then gently untangles Dave’s hand and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.

He really needs a fucking shower.

-

Dirk Strider has not seen or heard from his brother in over 24 hours. While this isn’t unheard of, it is concerning because the last glimpse Dirk caught of him had involved a ghoul pinning him to the ground. Not that Dirk is worried. Dave is too cool to be taken out by a ghoul, even one who managed to avoid Bro’s tracking skills for a good while.

Bro is gone, too. He left that morning, telling Dirk to stay in the motel room and not let anyone in while he went out to do badass hunter things, probably. Dirk’s old enough to come along on hunts now, even Dave agrees on that, but Bro refuses to take him on recon missions because having a kid around would just draw attention.

But Bro overestimates just how much Dirk gives a shit about his orders, because when a blonde woman dressed dark and fancy knocks on the motel room door, Dirk hides a knife behind his back and opens it. 

Turns out the woman is Rose, his older half-sister who Dirk has vague memories of, and she’s here because Dave messaged her asking for help. Dirk’s a little peeved that Dave wouldn’t message _him_ for help, but Rose shows him the conversation and it makes sense, he guesses, because Dave wouldn’t want Bro to find out he was gonna take Dirk away.

So he grabbed his few belongings (and tucked the knife into his waistband, out of Rose’s sight, just in case) and left the motel without looking back. Now he’s sitting in a much fancier hotel, licking at his melting ice cream cone while Rose makes important-sounding calls on her cell phone. From what Dirk can gather, she’s talking to some hunters about rogues, which Dirk hasn’t heard of but assumes is some sort of evil creature. He wonders if Dave got caught up in that and that’s why he didn’t come home. 

If he’s being completely honest he is a little worried about Dave. He never messaged Rose back, apparently. Dirk wonders where he even got a phone to do that; Bro doesn’t let him have one because he says Dave is ‘dangerous.’ Dirk knows things used to be different, before Dave was bit, but as far as Dirk can tell Dave hasn’t changed at all since becoming a werewolf.

He’s not sure if it’s because Dave is just that great or if Bro is wrong about werewolves in general, and Bro hates when he asks questions like that. He usually goes even harder on Dirk in training than usual, even if Dave goes first to try to wear him out.

Dave hates fighting. He never says so, but it’s obvious. One day Dirk will be strong enough to best Bro, and Dave will never have to fight again.

“Dirk, are you done with your ice cream?” Rose asks, coming to sit next to him on the bed. He nods and she hands him a washcloth to wipe his fingers off. “I’ve spoken to the hunters and let them know the situation. I still need to speak to the local pack, however.”

‘Werewolf pack?’ Dirk signs. Bro hates when he signs, but Rose didn’t even blink when he used his hands to speak. Well, she is his sister.

“Yes, the werewolf pack in the area,” Rose says, her purple eyes watching his face carefully. Whatever she’s looking for she won’t find; Dirk’s got the Strider poker face down pat. He doesn’t know why she would want to talk to werewolves when she’s busy hunting rogues, unless she plans to kill them too, but strategically it’s a bad move. 

When he doesn’t react she lets out a small sigh and crosses her hands delicately in her lap. “Dirk, do you understand what’s happening?”

Dirk rolls his eyes, safely hidden behind his shades. All adults assume he’s stupid because he doesn’t talk, but the joke’s on them; he’s usually smarter than they are.

‘You’re working with Dave to get us away from Bro,’ Dirk signs.

“Yes, that’s true,” Rose says. “Do you know why?”

‘Because Bro’s a dick to Dave,’ Dirk signs. ‘He hates that he’s a werewolf.’

Dirk knows that the only reason Dave stayed with Bro was because of him. He _also_ knows that the reason Dave is still alive is because of him, too. Bro wanted to kill Dave, all those years ago. But Dirk remembers standing in front of the gun, arms spread, declaring that if he killed Dave Bro would have to kill him, too. And, miraculously, it worked. Dave was spared and Dirk continued to be trained into the perfect hunter, even though he’d rather spend his time building robots.

Rose tenses at his words, eyes widening slightly. It only lasts for a second, but he catches it and doesn’t know what to make of it. 

Rose sighs again, louder this time. He doesn’t know if she’s getting agitated or not; her face is bland as she looks at him. He shifts slightly, feeling the weight of the knife in his waistband. “There’s a lot more to it than that. Dirk, you know that when I left I wanted to take you and Dave with me, right? But it wasn’t safe. Our father would have tracked us down and killed us.”

Dirk nods, slowly, refusing to let the hurt show on his face. Rose had abandoned them, but instead of facing that he buried it deep down and clung to Dave for comfort. 

“Our father is a bad man,” Rose continues. He remembers that she always refused to call him Bro; a memory, long forgotten, floats to the front of his mind: Rose, falling to the ground, holding her swelling cheek, Bro standing above her; Rose hissing out ‘of course, _father_ ’ and launching one of her sharpened needles at him, slicing across his face.

It was just training. He doesn’t know why it makes his stomach twist.

“The way he raised us is wrong,” Rose tells him. “He kept us away from the real world, instilled twisted beliefs in our minds. Supernaturals are just like regular people, Dirk. Some are bad, some are even evil, but most are trying to live their lives the best they can. I’m contacting the local pack to warn them about our father, so that they can keep themselves safe from him.”

Dirk frowns at her, the first expression he’s made since being in her presence. He raises his hands and signs, ‘We kill monsters to protect people.’

Rose shakes her head. She looks… sad, he thinks, as she gazes at him. “We killed them because he told us to. Because if we didn’t he would hurt us.”

It’s Dirk who shakes his head this time. He stands up, backing away. Rose doesn’t move, but she continues, “Can you honestly tell me that if you told our father that you didn’t want to hunt anymore, that you didn’t want to kill, he would be okay with it? He wouldn’t put you through more abusive ‘training’ to change your mind?”

Dirk grits his teeth. It’s true and he knows it, but he _wants_ to be a hunter; he wants to protect people, like Dave does. 

‘What’s a rogue?’ he asks instead. Rose gives him a sad little smile.

“Our father is a rogue, and so are you and Dave,” she says. “So was I, before I escaped.”

She stands, hands smoothing out her skirt, and even though she doesn’t make a move towards him Dirk tenses. She walks to the dresser, pockets her phone, and says, “There are a lot of things I need to explain to you, but they’ll have to wait. I have to meet someone. Please stay here; it’s safer.”

She looks him up and down, frowning, before grabbing her bag and moving towards the door. “Order room service if you get hungry.”

And with that, she’s gone. He hears her walking down the hall and lets his face fall into scowl. Fucking adults, always leaving him behind. He doesn’t know if what she said is true, doesn’t know how to find out. He needs more information; he needs to talk to his brother. 

Unfortunately he doesn’t know how to get in contact with him. He tries downloading that app, pesterchum, and sending a message to TurntechGodhead, but doesn’t get a reply. He frowns, kicking his feet anxiously as he sits on the bed. This would be so much easier if Dave had a phone.

But whatever, Dirk can improvise. If he can’t talk to his brother to confirm the things Rose said, he’ll just have to go to the source. But how does one track down a werewolf when they aren’t planning on killing them? Dirk doesn’t have any contacts in this city and he’s hesitant to reach out to any of the hunters he knows; they’ll probably just turn around and tell Bro. Trying to find anything online won’t do shit; all the real stuff is buried beneath fiction and roleplays.

He eventually decides the only course of action is to walk around and keep his eyes peeled for anything supernatural. That’s usually Dave or Bro’s job, because Dirk is a kid and kids attract attention when they’re wandering around shitty parts of town, but he’s been bugging them to let him come along for what feels like forever, now.

He makes sure to grab one of the hotel room’s keycards on his way out. He wants to take his sword but he has his knife, he’ll be fine. If what Rose said is true he might not even need weapons at all.

It’s hot when he steps outside. Dirk has never had a single place to call home but he’s always preferred when their travels took them some place warm. The cold makes him feel tired.

He walks. And walks. And walks. He eavesdrops on conversations but they’re all mundane and boring. He eventually finds himself on a busy street, lined with shops, and wishes he would have ordered room service before he left or, at the very least, snagged some cash from Rose’s purse.

He’s so focused on his hunger that he almost walks past a magic shop, but the wards tickle his skin as he passes by and he stops in his tracks. A _real _magic shop then. Perfect.__

__Bro makes them stay away from witches unless they’re specifically hunting them or need supplies to kill a particularly resilient monster, so Dirk isn’t sure what to expect when he walks through the door. What he gets is a small bell chiming overhead and a rush of cool air, carrying with it the cloying smell of incense._ _

__The shop is small and not well lit. Books line the walls and there’s a table dead center covered in various kinds of crystals. It looks like bullshit, honestly, but Dirk can feel the magic crawling over him, judging his intent, so it has to be at least a little legit._ _

__“Oh hello there!” A cheery voice calls. A woman walks out from a doorway covered with a beaded curtain. She’s tall, with long, dark curly hair and sharp green eyes behind round glasses. He can feel magic rolling off of her._ _

__She looks surprised to see him, like she doesn’t get many customers, or maybe just not customers so young. She recovers quickly, giving him a smile as she looks him over._ _

__“Can I help you with something?” She asks._ _

__‘Where can I find the local werewolf pack?’ Dirk signs. She blinks at him, and maybe it wasn’t a good idea to ask so bluntly, because she tilts her head to the side, thinking. Or maybe she just doesn’t know sign._ _

__“What do you want with them?” She asks, signing along clumsily. At least she’s not playing dumb._ _

__‘You can talk, I’m not deaf. My friend is a werewolf,’ Dirk lies smoothly. ‘Just got bit. I’m trying to find out how to help her.’_ _

__“Mmhmm,” she says, clearly sensing bullshit. She looks him up and down once more and asks, “Hey, is your name Dirk by any chance?”_ _

__Dirk gives himself away by immediately tensing. He takes a step back, towards the door, and considers bolting. But so far this is his only lead, and he’s seen Bro and Dave take on witches before; they’re not much sturdier than normal humans if you can get close enough._ _

__“There’s no need for all that,” the woman says, putting her hands up placatingly. “Rose was in here awhile ago asking about the pack too and she happened to mention you.”_ _

__‘You know Rose?’ Dirk signs, relaxing just a little bit._ _

__“I do! My name is Jade,” Jade says, grinning. “We met online a few years ago and I was so surprised when she walked in today! It sounds like she dropped some heavy stuff on you and then took off, huh?”_ _

__Dirk nods. Jade sighs exaggeratedly. “Yeah, that’s Rose. I bet you have a bunch of questions, right? Come on into the back and we can have tea and cookies and I’ll tell you anything you wanna know, okay?”_ _

__She walks past him and flips the sign on the door to ‘closed’. Dirk narrows his eyes. This all seems suspiciously easy, somehow. But it couldn’t be a setup, because how would Rose know he’d leave the hotel room, let alone stumble upon this specific shop? And Jade doesn’t seem to be malicious and, even if she turns out to be, he can take her._ _

__He nods decisively and Jade leads him beyond the beaded curtain. This room is much brighter, less smelly, and has a cozy kitchen off to one side and a stairwell to the other._ _

__“I live upstairs,” Jade explains. “Only witch in town, if you don’t count Diedra, who dabbles in potions, mostly. Have a seat.”_ _

__He takes a seat at the table, legs dangling above the ground. This time Dave isn’t around to assure him he’ll hit a growth spurt soon. Jade bustles around the kitchen for awhile, then puts a plate of cookies in front of him with a toothy grin. If Dirk was any less hungry he’d refuse out of concern they’d be poisoned, but he’s starving so he shoves one in his mouth without hesitation._ _

__‘Do you know where my brother is?’ Dirk asks, taking another cookie._ _

__“Unfortunately not,” Jade says, a frown tugging at her lips. “Rose and I tried scrying for him earlier but the image was blurry. Something was blocking us and I’m not sure what. On the bright side he’s definitely alive! Scrying won’t work at all on corpses.”_ _

__Despite the less-than-stellar delivery, that does manage to relieve Dirk at least a little bit. The ghoul hadn’t killed his brother after all. He knew it._ _

__‘What are rogues?’ Dirk asks next, recalling Rose’s lackluster explanation. Jade takes a seat across from him and nibbles on a cookie._ _

__“Hunters without a license, basically,” she says. Dirk frowns. He doesn’t know anything about hunters needing licenses. “Rose has always been pretty cryptic when she talks about her brothers. Why don’t you tell me what you know and I’ll fill in the rest.”_ _

__Dirk considers this, eating another cookie, and nods. Finally, someone who will give him answers. He doesn’t like the idea of handing his life story over to a stranger but it makes sense that she needs to know where the holes in his knowledge are._ _

__So he tells her, and once he starts he can’t seem to stop. About how Bro decided he was old enough to tag along on real hunts when he was 8, instead of bringing him along after he’d subdued a monster to learn how to kill it. Dave wasn’t happy about that; he and Bro got in a really big fight that ended with Dave limping out of the motel room. But Dirk likes to think he showed Dave that he can be trusted, now, and that he doesn’t need to be protected so much._ _

__He tells Jade about being bored in hotel rooms, taking apart remote controls and tvs and radios and putting them back together. About how sometimes he got to run around with other kids on the rare occasion they stopped off at a bar or in a field somewhere pre-planned._ _

__He tells Jade about the blisters and cuts he got from being clumsy when Bro decided to switch him over to real weapons, about his various weapons training, and the monsters he knows how to kill and the ones Bro hasn’t taught him about yet._ _

__His hands are tired at that point, but he continues. He signs rapidly about how Dave’s a werewolf and Bro says he’s dangerous but Dirk knows Bro is wrong, but he doesn’t know if all werewolves are like Dave or if Dave is special. It wouldn’t surprise him. He even talks about Rose, for a bit, about the little he remembers of her before she abandoned them. How they would all fall asleep in the same bed, or curled up together on the floor if Bro was short on cash._ _

__By the time he’s run out of things to say he’s exhausted. His hands are cramping and the cookies are long gone. Jade got him a glass of water, at some point, because the cookies made him thirsty. She was quiet through most of his retelling, only urging him on with “uh huh”s and nods. But now she stares at him somberly._ _

__“Alright,” she says after a few moments. “There’s a lot you don’t know, buddy. This might take awhile. Do you wanna take a nap? You seem pretty tired. I can tell you everything when you wake up.”_ _

__He shakes his head immediately, signing, ‘Tell me now.’_ _

__Jade takes a deep breath and releases it loudly. “If you’re sure. Now, first of all…”_ _

__And so it begins._ _

__-_ _

__Kanaya Maryam’s day thus far has been pretty disappointing. She’d gone to pick up Porrim from the alpha house and to meet Karkat’s Mate, but she’d only managed to exchange a couple words with him before the boy had shut down._ _

__She has her doubts about the Mate thing. Dave seems too quiet for Karkat, too reserved, and there was the confounding issue of his silver poisoning. Karkat needs someone who can keep up with his quick wit and sharp tongue. But perhaps she’s judging too quickly; she only met him once, afterall, and while he was surrounded by a pack of unknown wolves._ _

__“Kanaya can I go over to Meulin’s?” Porrim asks, snapping her out of her thoughts._ _

__“Did you ask Diedra?” Kanaya asks, getting a pout in return. So no, she didn’t. “Call Diedra and ask if it’s okay. Also go ask grandma what she wants for dinner.”_ _

__Delores Maryam is the oldest wolf in the pack. She used to be the alpha before she passed down the duty to Simon a few years before the rogues attacked. Now she spends most of her days watching soap operas or helping Kanaya look after the kids, which is a responsibility that falls to her more often than not, for some reason._ _

__Porrim runs off, up to her room, and Kanaya sighs. She hopes Diedra says yes; Kanaya could use some time to herself. She’s falling behind on her sewing projects. Besides, she has a witch to entertain, apparently, and it would be much easier to do so without Porrim poking her nose into things._ _

__The doorbell rings and her phone buzzes with a message at the same time. Kanaya sighs, adjusting her blouse and skirt so she looks acceptable, and goes to open the door._ _

__She doesn’t know what she’s expecting, but it isn’t a beautiful young woman with purple eyes and platinum blonde hair. She’s dressed in a lovely, lacey ensemble, the look pulled together with dark makeup. Kanaya’s heart skips a beat._ _

__There’s a powerful aura surrounding this woman, so strong Kanaya can almost smell it in the air. She’s dangerous, and, well, Kanaya’s always had a type._ _

__“Rose, I presume?” Kanaya says, fighting the urge to fiddle with her hair. “Please, come in. Jade says you have information pertinent to the pack’s welfare.”_ _

__She steps aside, waving Rose through the door. Rose looks around, and Kanaya wishes she had taken the time to clean before she arrived._ _

__“Yes, I’d prefer to have spoken to the Alpha directly,” Rose says, returning her gaze to Kanaya. She smiles slightly. “Although I must admit I find it hard to complain about Jade’s choice. You’re Kanaya?”_ _

__Kanaya nods, cheeks flushing faintly, and leads her guest into the kitchen._ _

__“Would you like some tea?” she asks, already moving to put the kettle on. Having people over who aren’t pack is always nerve-wracking, even more so when those people are attractive ladies. Her phone buzzes in her pocket again but she ignores it. She’s a proper host, after all._ _

__“I’d love some,” Rose says, taking a seat at the table. She drums her fingernails on the wood and adds, “Unfortunately this is rather important and time is of the essence, I’m afraid.”_ _

__Kanaya frowns, turning around. Rose is staring at her seriously and tension forms in her stomach. She begins to move to the table, and several things occur in short order._ _

__The window shatters; pain spreads through Kanaya’s shoulder, sharp and angry; Rose jumps up from the table and launches herself across the room, tackling Kanaya to the ground; and a loud thump is heard from upstairs._ _

__“What--” Kanaya breathes, hand coming up to touch her shoulder. It comes back red with her blood, but whatever wound is there isn’t healing the way it should. The sharp, throbbing pain makes her grit her teeth. Silver. Fuck. A hunter?_ _

__She’s been shot, she realizes slowly. She’s been shot and she’s in shock, and Rose is above her, saying something that Kanaya can’t make out through the buzzing in her ears. If she hadn’t moved the bullet would surely have pierced her heart. Oddly, though, that isn’t the thought that shakes her._ _

__“I loved this blouse,” she says sadly, looking down to see her blood spilling down the front of it._ _

__“Kanaya!” Rose shouts. “Priorities, please!”_ _

__“Kanaya? What’s going on?” Porrim asks, skidding down the steps. Her face transforms into one of horror as she sees Kanaya laying on the kitchen tile._ _

__“Get down!” Rose shouts at the same time that Kanaya yells, “Go back upstairs!”_ _

__Porrim hesitates and a loud BANG comes from the front door. She scurries back upstairs as it happens again and this time the door is kicked open. A large man in a white polo steps inside, glancing around. He’s got a gun in one hand, a knife in the other, and Rose pushes herself to her feet at the sight of him, reaching for the belt around her waist and pulling out--are those knitting needles?_ _

__The man’s eyebrows raise above his strangely shaped glasses at the sight of Rose, a needle gripped tightly in either hand. Kanaya can’t see her face but her shoulders are tense, legs spread and knees bent, prepared for a fight. But Rose is a human, magic though she may be, and this man has a gun._ _

__Kanaya snarls, face transforming, and pushes herself to her knees. Glass crunches beneath her, no doubt tearing at her stockings._ _

__“Hello father,” Rose says coolly, and Kanaya freezes. _Father?_ _ _

__She throws one of her needles but the man dodges, moving so quickly he’s just a blur to Kanaya’s eyes. He raises the gun, pointing it straight at Rose, whose hand is still outstretched._ _

__“Haven’t learned any new tricks in all these years, Rosie?” the man taunts. “Y’know I don’ wanna kill you. You’re family. Get outta my way, kid.”_ _

__Kanaya is starting to feel woozy from blood loss, and for a moment she’s not sure if what she sees next really happens. The needle, previously lodged into the wall, moves of its own accord, flying out and slicing directly through the man’s shoulder; a mirror wound to Kanaya’s own. The needle finds its way back to Rose’s hand, slick with blood, and Kanaya thinks in awe ‘ _telekinesis?_ ’_ _

__The man drops the gun as the needle pierces him, face screwing in up what looks more like rage than pain before smoothing out again. His grip on the knife tightens and he takes a menacing step forward._ _

__“You may want to reconsider,” Rose says, as a loud growling starts up behind him._ _

__Delores stands at the foot of the stairs, transformed further than Kanaya’s ever seen; it’s an Alpha thing, taking the transformation beyond the usual teeth and claws. Porrim stands behind her, her own growl high pitched and scared. Kanaya stumbles to her feet, taking a step forward to stand beside Rose._ _

__The man is still for a moment. Kanaya can’t see his eyes but she can see him taking in the scene, weighing the likelihood of victory. Finally, he tips his hat at Rose and then he’s gone, a blur of motion, and Kanaya is so relieved she may be sick._ _

__“Get away from the windows,” Rose orders immediately. She grabs the gun off the ground and handles it expertly. Kanaya is not well versed with guns, but Rose doesn’t turn it on her so she assumes it’s safe. “Kanaya, we have to get that bullet out of you.”_ _

__“That’s a myth,” Kanaya says, feeling far away as her teeth return to normal and Rose ushers her out of the kitchen._ _

__“Not when the bullet’s silver and you’re a werewolf,” Rose tells her. They’re in the living room and Rose has her sit down on the couch, ordering Porrim to close the blinds on all the windows. She tears away the portion of Kanaya’s blouse and looks at the wound critically._ _

__“You’re telekinetic,” Kanaya accuses, because this is important for some reason. “Jade didn’t mention that.”_ _

__“Not quite,” Rose replies. “The needles are specially made. They come when they’re called.”_ _

__Kanaya is going to question her about this but Delores steps forward. She’s still transformed, hair leading to fur in patches across her face, ears pointed, and nose more snout-like than anything. She flashes her eyes consolingly at Kanaya and her own eyes flash back out of habit._ _

__“This will hurt, darling,” Delores says, raising her claws to the wound. Kanaya closes her eyes in preparation and the next moment she’s letting out a loud yelp. She feels Porrim’s small hands holding her down while Delores widens the wound and fishes around. Time slows down and all Kanaya feels is pain, teeth and claws extending and retracting reflexively, until finally Delores pulls back with a sharp hiss._ _

__Kanaya opens her eyes and her vision is blurred with tears. There’s a clink of the bullet hitting the table and then Rose is leaning back over her._ _

__“We’ll need something for the silver damage,” Rose declares, pressing a towel hard against the wound. “But hopefully your body will be able to heal quickly once we have that. Please hold this.”_ _

__Kanaya reaches up to grab the towel but Delores is by her side immediately, shushing her as she applies more pressure. In the background, Kanaya hears Rose’s voice talking to someone on the phone. She thinks it must be Jade, but she quickly loses that train of thought as she falls into blissful unconsciousness._ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Dirk found Jade, Rose found Kanaya, and Kanaya was shot by Bro.

Dave doesn’t know what wakes him. One moment he’s dead asleep, the next his eyes snap open, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t want to be awake. He’s exhausted and his entire body is aching; he feels like his bones and tendons and sinew are made of bruises. Fatigue makes him feel tired and his thoughts come to him slowly, as if moving through a thick fog. When he tries to go back to sleep, though, he feels anxiety swell within him. 

He remembers what led him here; sex with Karkat, learning what the fuck a Mate is, the crushing guilt that had him confess the truth about being a hunter. _Learning_ what a hunter is supposed to be. He remembers Karkat’s soft lips against his forehead, his quiet “thank you for telling me,” like Dave wasn’t a worthless lying piece of shit. The talk with Karkat’s father that came after.

And fuck, he has some thinking to do. The Alpha offered him a place in his pack; offered Dirk a place, too. If they manage to survive Bro, Dave would be an idiot not to take him up on it. Karkat had said something similar, earlier, but he wasn’t the Alpha.

But Dave doesn’t know what it means to be in a pack, or even what it means to be a Mate. ‘Werewolf soulmates,’ sure, but what does that entail? Is it a housewife situation? Would Dave have to cook and clean and fuck Karkat as his Mate desired?

There are worse fates, he guesses. Dave doesn’t know how to cook and he’s pretty sure he’s shit at cleaning, but he can learn. And Karkat seems like a good person; at least, on the surface. He’ll see how Karkat reacts when Dave really fucks up. But as long as Dirk is safe and away from Bro, Dave can put up with anything. It’s not like he has any other options; he doesn’t have an education or job experience, he doesn’t have any money of his own or friends to fall back on. 

If they survive this, and the offer is still open, Dave and Dirk will join the pack. 

Having a decision made helps the anxiety-induced nausea a little bit, but there’s too many things he doesn’t know. He should get up and find Karkat and talk, tell him more about Bro’s strategies, try to figure out a way to get Dirk out of his grasp. 

It’s the thought of his little brother that gets Dave to move. He rolls onto his side and immediately regrets it. His wounds are throbbing and sending dull waves of pain up his arms and legs, down his throat and into his chest. He groans audibly when he pushes himself into a sitting position, then a standing one. Dark spots blink in and out of his vision as lightheadedness overcomes him and he stays perfectly still.

The walk to the door feels like a mile, but when Dave opens it he’s greeted with the ambient sounds of what must be daily life here. Video games and laughter from down the hall, a tv playing something downstairs, chatter coming from the kitchen. 

He could probably just call out Karkat’s name and he’d be by Dave’s side in a flash. But the thought of being so reliant on someone makes Dave’s mouth tug itself into a frown. Besides, Karkat’s babysat him enough the past… two days? Day and a half? Fuck, it seems like so much longer. 

It took no time at all for him to turn on his family, huh? 

He heads to Karkat’s bedroom first, using the wall as support. He’s not moving silently like he normally does; instead his footsteps sound too loud in his ears. Karkat’s bedroom door is open and he’s not there. Dave stops off in the bathroom to piss and stare at himself in the mirror. He looks worse than last time, somehow. He messes with his hair until it looks less like he got fucked then passed out.

He heads to the stairwell and it’s a painfully slow process. He knows the doctor told him he’d start to feel fatigued but this is ridiculous. He stops at the top of the stairs and frowns, trying to figure out how to make his way down without making an utter fool of himself.

Something flashes out of the corner of his eye and his head snaps to the side, but it’s just light streaming out from Sollux’s closed door, alternating red and blue. Weird, but not his business. He sighs, turning his attention back to the stairs, and begins his descent.

He makes it about halfway before Latula wanders out of the living room. She sees him and freezes, her face dropping into a scowl. She pulls her lips back, baring her teeth, and if she was a werewolf and not like twelve years old it would probably be intimidating as shit.

“Karkat, your rogue is out!” she yells, turning on her heel and stomping away. 

Dave’s stomach drops. Fuck, Karkat had said they’d dealt with rogues before, right? And Terezi had been blinded by wolfsbane, hadn’t she? Dave hadn’t thought to wonder how or why but things are becoming clearer now.

Well, this is more along the lines of the response he expected. 

He doesn’t have time to make it another step down before Karkat is coming out of the kitchen, frowning grumpily. He sees Dave standing on the stairs and his frown morphs into a full scowl.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demands, walking up until he’s next to Dave. His arm slips around Dave’s waist in what is becoming a familiar position. “Diedra is going to fucking gut us.”

Karkat keeps saying that but Dave remembers the doctor being almost cartoonishly bubbly and cheerful. He shrugs, leaning into the werewolf and letting him take almost all his weight. His knees ache like he’s 80 years old, what the fuck?

He may take the opportunity to rub his face into Karkat’s soft curls, breathing in his calming scent. He doesn’t get the whole Mate thing but Karkat did smell fucking amazing. He wonders if it would be weird to like, steal a shirt from him or something. A dirty shirt, one that smells like him. That would probably be weird, right? Right, yeah.

“Just woke up dude,” Dave says as Karkat helps him down the stairwell. “Figured we probably have shit to talk about. What’s been going on since I’ve been out?”

Karkat leads him to the kitchen and deposits him in a chair. He walks to the refrigerator and pours a glass of apple juice, which he sets in front of Dave.

“Dad called the hunters; apparently there was a tip already called in which is weird as fuck but whatever,” Karkat says, moving around the kitchen. He’s in the middle of cooking something. “They’re on their way. We called everyone in the pack even though no one calls people anymore so it all went to fucking voicemail and we had to send texts anyway. We had a pack meeting and filled everyone who’s in the house in on what’s going on. The kids are on lockdown.”

Dave is still staring at the apple juice when Karkat turns around. 

“What’s wrong?” Karkat asks. “Does it taste bad?”

“Dude, did you get this for me?” Dave asks, looking up at him. His voice is blank.

“It’s grocery day,” Karkat shrugs. “I added it to the list.”

“Oh,” Dave says. His throat feels tight for some reason. “Thanks, dude.”

He grabs the glass and takes a drink, if only for something to do. It tastes amazing, because of course it does. It’s apple juice.

“I’m sorry about Latula,” Karkat says, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “Rogues killed her parents and she’s not taking this well. I’ll talk to her and she’ll apologize.”

Dave puts his glass down and stares at the linoleum floor. He raises his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Don’t bother. She’s not wrong. I’m a rogue, apparently.”

He smiles humorlessly for a moment before letting his face fall back to careful neutrality. “Also, if the offer is still open at the end of all this, me and Dirk will join your pack.”

He glances up to see Karkat’s reaction to this.

“The offer _wil_ * still be open, Dave.” Karkat is smiling widely but his eyes flash and Dave’s too fucking tired to stop himself from flinching minutely. Karkat’s smile disappears immediately. God, is there a limit to the amount of times he can fuck up before he ruins this chance for him and Dirk? 

Karkat turns the stove off, spinning a few dials and moving a pot to a different burner, then he sits down and looks at Dave seriously.

“What do you think it means when werewolves flash their eyes?” Karkat asks. Dave senses a trap, but he doesn’t know what it could be.

“It’s a threat,” he replies, and Karkat closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath before opening them again. Dave feels anxiety clawing at his throat. “I mean, it’s not a threat, obviously, haha why would it be a threat? That would be stupid and-”

“Dave,” Karkat cuts him off, face slipping back into his familiar grumpy expression. “It’s used a lot as a form of greeting to other wolves, but in general it’s a way of showing support and camaraderie. A quick flash isn’t a threat. The threat is when the eyes remain transformed.”

Dave tries to take this in. It makes sense, he supposes. It re-contextualizes his interactions with the other members of the pack. None of them had been outwardly aggressive towards him, besides doing the eye thing. And Dave had been taught that if a werewolf’s eyes are transformed at all it means danger, which… makes sense, if you’re a hunter whose only exposure to werewolves has been violent. Or a rogue, he means. Fuck. whatever.

Dave remembers gold eyes glowing in the dark, claws and teeth lunging faster than a normal human ever could. Pushing Dirk out of the way, pain erupting in his arm, the sound of his own scream echoing in his ears. A gunshot, eyes dimming, a limp body pinning him to the ground, Bro standing over him with his gun pointed at his head. Bro’s face twisted into an emotion Dave couldn’t pinpoint, saying _you’re not Dave anymore _.__

__“Dave!” Karkat shouts. Dave startles, ripped out of his own thoughts. Karkat looks worried and Dave gets the feeling he’s been calling his name for awhile. “Are you okay?”_ _

__“I’m fine.” Dave shakes his head like doing so will shake the thoughts away. “Sorry, I was just thinking. How do you do it? The eye thing. I should probably figure that shit out if I’m gonna be sticking around. Don’t wanna get my ass kicked for being some rude fuck, y’know? Dunno what your pack must think of me so far; like my weird ass eyes aren’t enough to make normal people think twice, now i gotta worry about flickering my eyes like an epilepsy warning should be slapped across my forehead.”_ _

__As he speaks Karkat’s mouth twitches up into a small, fond smile. It makes Dave want to squirm and he doesn’t know why._ _

__“I’ll teach you,” Karkat tells him, propping his head on his hand and gazing at Dave with a look that’s too soft to be in response to the bullshit that just spilled from Dave’s lips. “After you’re healed up more, I’ll teach you how to control your transformation. I’m a born wolf but the only bitten wolf we’ve got in our pack is Vriska and you don’t want her teaching you anything.”_ _

__His lip curls as he speaks and Dave surprises himself by laughing. He refuses to call it a giggle. But Karkat hears it and his face breaks into a beaming smile that makes Dave’s heart stutter._ _

__“Karkat!” a boy says, marching into the kitchen with his arms crossed. Dave tries to remember his name but comes up blank. He’s Karkat’s little brother; the family resemblance is there with the hair and the nose. “I’m glad you and your Mate are getting along but dinner tonight is your responsibility and you _know_ how Terezi gets when she’s hungry.”_ _

__Karkat groans. The boy turns to Dave, looking him up and down as though assessing him, and flashes his eyes. Dave feels the reflexive fear shoot through him but pushes it away. It’s not a threat, and besides this kid is like four feet tall and almost as skinny as Dave._ _

__“Please refrain from discussing the topic of rogues with Latula. It’s triggering for her,” the boy tells him matter-of-factly. “If you have any triggers yourself you should let me know so I can make sure to avoid them and if you have any questions regarding the other pack members I would be happy to inform you of their-”_ _

__Karkat groans louder, burying his face in his hands before he stands up and grabs his brother by the shoulders. “Yes, thank you Kankri. Dave will be sure to never speak to you again. Get the fuck out.”_ _

__“Language, Karkat, how many times-” Kankri complains, but Karkat gives him a harsh shove through the doorway and Dave hears him walking away, muttering._ _

__“Sorry about him,” Karkat tells Dave as he returns to the stove. “He’s a brat and he learned the word ‘trigger’ last month and hasn’t shut up about it since.”_ _

__Kankri is bossy and demanding, just like Dirk, but in a way that Dave doesn’t know what to do with. Karkat’s relationship with his brother seems entirely different from Dave’s own, but there’s an underlying fondness in Karkat’s tone as he grumbles and continues to clatter around the kitchen. Dave watches him for a few minutes, letting the smell of food and Karkat calm him. His stomach growls and Karkat glances at him before putting an apple in front of him and demanding he eat it._ _

__Dave shrugs, never one to turn down food, and munches on the apple while Karkat works. It’s weird that he’s hungry; he never eats this much this often, and he rarely if ever feels actual hunger. That combined with the aches and fatigue make him antsy. Bro would lay him flat in a second in training, let alone in a real fight, with Dave in this condition._ _

__“Diedra’s here,” Karkat says out of nowhere, not stopping his cooking. He raises his voice slightly and commands, “Kankri, get the door!”_ _

__“How did you know?” Dave asks curiously. Kankri’s footsteps echo down the hall and the front door opens._ _

__“Hm? Oh, I could hear her car,” Karkat replies distractedly as he stirs something in a pot. Dave didn’t hear a car at all._ _

__“Nep, help Kankri and Meulin with the bags,” Diedra’s voice drifts in from the hallway. A second later she’s standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and looking Dave up and down. He’s getting a lot of that today, it seems. “Hey there, Dave.”_ _

__“Uh, hi?” Dave responds, leaning away as Diedra stalks forward and grabs him by the chin. Her face is set in a deep frown as she tilts his head this way and that, then she shoves his shades up into his hair without warning. “Woah, hey-”_ _

__In his attempt to get away he ends up nearly falling to the ground, but Karkat is there to catch him and push him upright. He growls at Diedra, which is kind of hot, and the doctor backs away with her arms crossed as Dave adjusts his shades._ _

__“You look awful and you smell like sex,” Diedra comments, tapping her foot. “I said no overexertion, didn’t I? I said bed rest. Was I not clear enough?”_ _

__“Karkat made absolutely sure there was no overexertion on my part,” Dave complains, crossing his arms right back. He sees her lip twitch in amusement and maybe he pouts a little, just to see if it happens again. It does._ _

__“Oh my god,” Karkat grumps, turning back to his cooking._ _

__Diedra sighs heavily, and this demeanor is so unlike the bubbly personality Dave first met that it makes him squirm. She’d been serious when she told him about his wounds but now she seems… disappointed._ _

__“As happy as I am for the two of you, I don’t think either of you are taking this seriously enough,” she says. Her eyes are laser focused on Karkat. “If the silver concentration in those shackles was any higher we likely would have had to amputate.”_ _

__Amputate? Holy shit. Dave doesn’t know anything about the silver concentration in his bracelets; Bro bought them for him and he slapped them on, desperate for something to muffle the overwhelming sounds and smells and emotions that came with being a werewolf. It worked, too; the pain gave him something else to focus on and the longer he wore them the less like a werewolf he felt. But amputation? Jesus._ _

__There’s a loud thump and a clatter from the direction of the living room and Diedra yells over her shoulder, “Nep, be careful! I have my potions in there!” She turns back and gives Dave a pointed look. “We’re not done.”_ _

__She leaves the kitchen, probably to go make sure her shit isn’t broken. Karkat stirs the pot one last time and turns the stove off._ _

__“The house is gonna be packed for the next couple days,” he tells Dave. “Diedra, Nepeta, and Muelin are gonna be staying here; they’ll be in the other guest bedroom, and a few other pack members will probably be coming over as well. We tend to band together as much as possible when there’s a threat.”_ _

__“Is that a good idea?” Dave asks, frowning. “I get safety in numbers but Bro’s taken out covens sharing a house before with a few specialty bombs, then picked off the survivors. It might be safer to stick to smaller groups.”_ _

__Karkat considers this for a moment, his gaze heavy. “I’ll mention it to my dad. But we’ve got the hunters coming and a source of inside information; he might not think it’s necessary.”_ _

__Dave accepts this with a sharp nod. He wonders if he should hand over the motel address to the hunters, or even the Alpha. Bro’s probably still there, but Dave doesn’t want to risk Dirk getting caught in the crossfire. If there was a surefire way to get Dirk away from Bro he’d take it in an instant, but Bro monitors all of Dirk’s communication and Dave isn’t even sure if Bro knows he’s alive right now._ _

__He opens his mouth to ask about Dirk but Karkat’s phone goes off first. He fishes it out of his pocket and his face pales drastically as he reads whatever’s there. Dave stands up, concerned, but is immediately hit with a wave of vertigo and has to sit back down._ _

__“Dude, what’s up?” he asks as the world slowly stops spinning around him. “You look like you just found out your dad went through your search history.”_ _

__“Kanaya’s been shot,” Karkat says, and Dave’s mouth snaps shut. Karkat types out a message on his phone with deft fingers, then shoves it in his pocket and runs a hand through his hair. “She’s okay. It was Strider, but he didn’t account for a witch being there, I guess. They’re on their way to get a potion to deal with the silver damage and then they’ll be heading over here.”_ _

__Dave feels guilt wash over him as he thinks about the salves upstairs meant for repairing his own silver injuries. He doesn’t know why they’re going somewhere else in the first place when it’s readily available here, but he doesn’t bring that up because his mind is focused on the detail about Bro. It doesn’t sound like him to let some witch get in the way of a hunt. Even if he didn’t predict their presence._ _

__“You should sit down,” he tells Karkat, because he’s leaning on the counter rather heavily. Karkat shakes his head and steadies himself._ _

__“No, I have to get everything ready,” he says. “Gotta get the sleeping bags for the kids and set them up in the living room and figure out who’s sleeping where. Kanaya should take the guest bed--I have to get that ready for her--Diedra can sleep on the couch and Nepeta can bunk with Terezi for the night. Fuck, I didn’t make enough food for everyone.”_ _

__His words speed up until they’re almost tripping over themselves and Dave forces himself to his feet and takes a few wobbly steps towards him. Karkat automatically reaches out to steady him and Dave puts his hands on Karkat’s shoulders._ _

__“Seriously, breathe,” Dave commands. “Order some pizza. The kids will be thrilled. Kids love the shit out of pizza, dude. Everyone else can eat whatever the fuck you slaved over like a 50s housewife. There’s like 80 other people in this house, tell one of them to dig out the sleeping bags and another to order the pizza and another to set up the guest bedroom. You just found out your friend got hurt; give yourself a minute.”_ _

__Karkat stares up at him and the panic ever so slightly drains from his face. He nods, hesitates for a moment, then tugs Dave forward, burying his face in Dave’s neck and taking a few deep breaths. Dave freezes, caught off guard. He awkwardly pats Karkat on the back, which makes him laugh weakly and pull away. Despite his complete failure to give his werewolf soulmate a proper hug, Karkat smiles at him._ _

__“Yeah, okay,” he says, leading Dave back to the chair and forcing him to sit. Well, more like Karkat lets go and gravity did the rest but still. Rude. “Give me a minute.”_ _

__Karkat leaves the kitchen, calling for Nepeta, and Dave stares at the apple core sitting on the table. He’s still really fucking hungry. He glances at the food still sitting on the stove, but disregards the idea immediately. He’s already eaten too much of their food, and Karkat said he didn’t make enough for everyone. Dave’s used to going without, making sure Dirk eats as much as he can; one skipped meal won’t kill him._ _

__He can faintly hear Karkat’s voice drifting in from the living room, though he can’t make out the words. His tone is firm, maybe even bossy, which is a lot better than the anxious way he spoke a few minutes ago. At least Dave is good for something, even if he might be giving himself too much credit. Karkat would have pulled himself together with or without Dave’s interference._ _

__With a sigh, Dave leans forward, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes. His stomach growls again but he steadfastly ignores it, focusing instead on the sound of Karkat talking in the next room over. He’s got a nice voice; it’s deep and gravelly even when he isn’t growling. Dave wouldn’t mind listening to him talk for hours, even about the dullest of topics, because his voice makes Dave feel calm. It’s not something he’s used to._ _

__Sitting in the kitchen of the Alpha house, nose filled with the scent of food and his Mate, an alien feeling of safety draped over him, Dave finds himself dozing._ _

__-_ _

__Karkat enters the living room with Dave’s scent still grounding him. He doesn’t know what he would have done without his Mate there, calming him down and reminding him that he doesn’t have to handle everything alone. Karkat, as the next in line to be Alpha, has a lot to prove but in his efforts to do so he sometimes forgets that he has his pack to rely on._ _

__Thankfully Dave was there to calm him down before a panic attack really managed to drag him down._ _

__Karkat walks into the living room and is immediately hit by an excitable Muelin, who wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go for a solid few seconds. When she pulls back she signs so quickly he can’t follow._ _

__“Slower, please,” he tells her, signing as he talks. Muelin is almost completely deaf, despite being a werewolf. She was born that way and it absolutely baffles Diedra, though she’s as supportive as she possibly can be._ _

__Muelin signs slower, telling him how excited she is to be back at the Alpha house. Karkat ruffles her hair and sends her to pick out a movie for her and the other kids to watch. Muelin’s the youngest in their pack and she’s an absolute delight._ _

__“Hey Nep, can you go set up the second guest room for Kanaya?” he says. Nepeta gives him a thumbs up and ducks out of the room. He hears her bounding up the steps and raises his voice just slightly to say, “and tell Sollux to get the sleeping bags.”_ _

__She says “okay” and Karkat turns to Diedra, who’s giving him a withering look; probably for pushing Dave too hard today. He doesn’t have time to deal with the guilt, though, so he tucks it away for another time and says, “Can you order some pizza for the kids? We’re gonna be at capacity tonight. Put it on the pack card.”_ _

__“What’s going on?” she asks, already digging her phone out. “Where’s Simon?”_ _

__“Out making nice with the hunters,” Karkat shrugs. “The rogue attacked. Kanaya was injured but she’s fine. They’re coming to stay the night.”_ _

__Diedra’s jaw tenses and she gives him a sharp nod as she turns her attention to her phone. Sollux and Nepeta walk in, bickering about some stupid meme song, arms loaded with sleeping bags and pillows, and they get to work pushing the furniture aside and laying everything out. Karkat kind of misses being a kid and having pack sleepovers, watching movies and passing out with limbs tossed over each other._ _

__Once everything is situated Karkat steps back and eyes it critically. It looks cozy as fuck, and Muelin’s already making herself comfortable directly in the middle. She’s put on a disney movie, subtitles already on, and is staring at the tv with rapt attention. Karkat can’t help but smile at the sight._ _

__He has a million other things he should be doing; checking in with his father about the hunters, asking Delores what’s taking so long, figuring out what the fuck they’re going to do for breakfast. But all he wants is to retreat back to his Mate, so that’s what he does._ _

__Dave is breathing evenly, nearly asleep at the table when Karkat walks back into the kitchen. He takes a moment just to observe him, to take in the relaxed expression on his face. He’s pleased as fuck that Dave’s comfortable enough to let his guard down here, but he remembers Diedra’s words, telling him he’s not taking this seriously, and sighs. He clears his throat and Dave sits up straight immediately._ _

__“Hey dude,” he says, voice thick with exhaustion. “Got everything sorted out?”_ _

__“Mostly,” Karkat replies. There’s a suspicious lack of a bowl or silverware in front of Dave and he frowns. “Did you eat?”_ _

__Dave’s eyebrows furrow, pulling down behind his shades. “No? I mean I ate that apple, you saw me do that, and I finished off this sweet aj so thanks for that. But I’ve just been chillin’ here while you do your emergency leader thing which is kinda hot honestly. What? Nevermind. Where’s your dad, anyway? Shouldn’t he be dealing with this shit?”_ _

__“He’s setting the hunters up in a hotel,” Karkat explains as he starts to portion out a good deal of food for Dave. “They’re a good resource and helpful as fuck but involving them means a lot of playing nice and bureaucracy. It’s a lot better than it used to be but it’s frustrating in a different way.”_ _

__He places the bowl in front of Dave and says, “Here, eat. Before everyone else realizes dinner’s ready and storm the place.”_ _

__Instead of shoveling food into his mouth like he did before, Dave frowns. Karkat feels familiar insecurity crawling over him; he should have asked what Dave wanted before he started cooking, but Dave had been asleep. He’s obviously hungry. Karkat’s been hearing his stomach growl since he helped him into the kitchen._ _

__“Are you sure?” Dave asks, looking between the food and Karkat. “I’m good, dude, let everyone else eat first. I’m not even that hungry.”_ _

__Karkat’s mouth falls open in disbelief at the blatant lie._ _

__“Okay, even ignoring the fact that I can hear your stomach growling like a toddler during the full moon, did you forget you’re on a meal plan?” Karkat asks. “No skipping meals allowed.”_ _

__“Listen to Karkat, Dave. I’m not afraid to force feed you,” Diedra’s voice says from the living room. Dave doesn’t so much as twitch at the threat, though Karkat rolls his eyes._ _

__“Seriously, eat,” Karkat demands, pushing the bowl a little closer to his Mate. Dave hesitates once more before he nods, picks up the spoon, and goes to town. Karkat grabs the bowl and tugs it away gently, afraid that Dave will make himself sick at this rate. Dave gives him the most betrayed look he’s ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Slow down. It’s not going anywhere.”_ _

__He gives him the bowl back and Dave starts eating again, still too quickly for Karkat’s liking but slower than before. Karkat’s ears twitch at the sound of a car outside, still pretty far away but approaching fast. Kanaya will be here soon and Karkat can fuss over her wound and make sure she’s alright while she passive aggressively complains about his hypocrisy. The thought soothes the anxiety that’s been swirling inside him since he got the message saying she was hurt in the first place._ _

__He taps his foot anxiously as the car gets closer. He wants to wait at the door but he doesn’t want to leave Dave, and his Mate doesn’t seem very steady on his feet right now. So he remains in the kitchen as Dave finishes his meal, ears twitching with every new sound._ _

__Finally he hears the car come to a stop outside, the sound of the doors opening and slamming shut._ _

__“Please put me down, grandma. I was shot in the shoulder, not the leg,” Kanaya sighs._ _

__“Hush, darling,” Delores replies, the wooden stairs creaking under her weight. “Porrim, get the door.”_ _

__“You should conserve your strength until you’re healed,” says a voice Karkat doesn’t recognize._ _

__The door opens and Karkat can’t take it anymore. He heads to the hallway and is greeted with the sight of Delores Maryam bridal carrying her granddaughter through the doorway, Porrim leading the charge. He’s so fucking relieved to see her that he almost doesn’t notice the two strangers trailing in behind them._ _

__“Kanaya!” he says, moving closer. He leans in and pushes aside the strap of the tank top she’s wearing--clearly not hers, Kanaya would _never_ \-- to reveal her bandaged shoulder. He frowns; he knows very little about healing but it looks to be bandaged properly._ _

__“I appreciate the concern but please. I’m perfectly fine,” Kanaya rolls her eyes but gives him a fond smile. Nepeta may be Karkat’s second in command, but Kanaya is his best friend. He takes a sheepish step back._ _

__“The guest bedroom is ready for you,” he tells her._ _

__She opens her mouth, probably to argue that she’s perfectly fine taking the couch, thank you, but Delores cuts her off with a, “Thank you, Karkat,” and brushes him aside and heads to the stairwell, Kanaya still in her arms. Porrim casts a glance back at the strangers behind her before following, leaving Karkat alone in the hallway with them._ _

__With the knowledge that Kanaya is, in fact, alive and well, Karkat turns his attention to the newcomers. Neither of them are wolves, but he can smell magic around the woman, thick and cloying. She smiles at him and it somehow manages to be a neutral expression on her face. This must be the witch who managed to scare off Strider, somehow. Karkat has no idea who the kid could be._ _

__“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” the woman says. “Delores assured us we would be welcome here. My brother is very eager to meet more werewolves.”_ _

__Fucking Delores. Like Karkat doesn’t have enough to deal with right now. But he’d slit his own throat before actively defying their previous Alpha, so he says, “Right, come in.”_ _

__“Karkat? Who else is here?” Dave asks. He moved to the kitchen doorway while Karkat was distracted. He peeks his head around the wall and freezes, his mouth falling open in shock._ _

__The kid fucking bolts towards Dave and Karkat reacts on instinct, seeing a threat to his Mate, reaching out and snagging the kid by the collar of his shirt. The kid whips around to face him and Karkat can’t see his eyes through his weird pointy sunglasses but his face is way too blank; it makes Karkat’s skin crawl._ _

__It takes half a second for the kid to take in his face--transformed, eyes glowing--and whip a fucking knife out of nowhere and slash it across the arm holding him. Karkat flinches back, hissing, the pain taking him by surprise. Was that knife fucking silver?_ _

__He snarls at the kid, putting pressure to the wound and feeling blood drip between his fingers. The little shit got him good. Worst of all, he’d managed to place himself between Karkat and Dave, facing Karkat with his knife at the ready, holding it like one would a sword._ _

__“Dirk,” Dave says, and the kid tenses but doesn’t look back. “Put the knife away. No one here is going to hurt you.”_ _

__The knife lowers very slightly. Dave sighs and says, “Or me. I promise.”_ _

__Dirk lowers his weapon and Karkat is very, very tempted to try and snatch it away from him. His arm stings and his blood is getting all over the floor. He’s so not going to be the one cleaning that up._ _

__Dirk keeps his attention on Karkat for a moment longer, then turns around and throws his arms around Dave, hugging him tightly. When he pulls back Karkat sees him slip the knife into his waistband, hidden under his shirt, which is all fucking kinds of unsafe._ _

__Dirk doesn’t say a word but Dave says, “I’m fine, I swear. What are you doing here? How did you get away from Bro?”_ _

__The woman--the witch--clears her throat. Karkat’s eyes snap to her and he’s surprised to see that her eyes look suspiciously wet, and when she speaks she sounds on the verge of tears._ _

__“That would be my doing,” she says. “You think you could send me such a mysterious message after years of silence and I *wouldn’t* immediately board a plane? It’s like you don’t know me at all.”_ _

__Dave makes a noise that sounds so wounded Karkat’s worried he managed to hurt himself, somehow, but then he croaks out, “Rose?”_ _

__The witch smiles, and this time there’s so many emotions flying across her face it’s impossible to parse. “I am so incredibly pissed at you, David.” She takes a step forward, then stops, her eyes flitting to Karkat. “I’d like to give you a hug, if your bodyguard permits it.”_ _

__Dave looks at Karkat, face pale, and Karkat’s pretty sure he isn’t happy with what he sees. Karkat’s bleeding heavily and his wound isn’t healing thanks to the silver. He’s starting to get pretty fucking lightheaded, actually._ _

__Dave yells, “Diedra! Karkat’s hurt!”_ _

__And all hell breaks loose._ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> previously: Dave and Karkat talk, Dave accepts the offer of a place in the pack, Kanaya arrives with her entourage, and Dirk attacked Karkat.
> 
> I had trouble with this chapter and I got some help with Dave's dialogue from AllDaveKat, who writes excellent fics and I highly suggest you check them out. https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllDaveKat

If ever Karkat needed proof that his pack was fucking extra it was this. A moment after Dave shouts that Karkat’s hurt, Diedra bursts into the hallway, Kankri and Latula not far behind. 

Terezi, apparently forgetting that she’s fucking blind, tears out of her room and _jumps_ down the stairs, landing in a crouch and straightening up with claws and teeth on full display. Karkat gapes at her, but then his eye is drawn upwards to Nepeta, perched on the railing of the upstairs hallway like a fucking demon. Sollux stands next to her, eyes lighting up his stupid red and blue glasses.

He can hear Delores fighting with Kanaya, who is doubtlessly trying to come to his aid. Porrim, the only one with any sense in this useless pack, peeks her head around the wall, sees everyone has things handled, and turns back. Small mercies.

“Woah,” Dave says. The moment Diedra entered he’d forced his little brother behind him, and now they’re surrounded by Karkat’s ridiculous over-protective packmates. There’s no way this is helping with his fear of werewolves.

“Karkat?” Kankri’s watery voice says. Karkat’s eyes snap to him to see him on the verge of tears, the little crybaby.

“I’m fine, guys,” he says. “Stand the fuck down. It was an accident.”

“I smell _silver,”_ Terezi hisses, absolutely not standing the fuck down.

“Kankri, go get my bag,” Diedra orders. She puts an arm on Karkat’s back, pushing him past Dave, into the kitchen. Kankri scampers off just as Muelin wanders into the hallway, confused, and spots the blood. She immediately begins to wail. “Latula, deal with Muelin.”

“Got it!,” Latula yells, swooping the little girl up in her arms and disappearing back into the living room.

“Terezi, calm down,” Karkat calls over his shoulder. Diedra forces him into a chair as Kankri runs into the kitchen and plops her bag on the table, eyes wide as he stares at Karkat.

“Is he going to be okay?” Kankri asks, tugging anxiously at his sweater sleeves. Diedra digs through her bag, bottles clinking against each other, and pulls out a bright red one victoriously.

“He’ll be fine,” she says, grabbing Karkat’s arm. She opens the bottle and unceremoniously dumps it over Karkat’s wound. It’s runny and stings like a bitch. He hisses, instinctively trying to jerk his arm away but Diedra has a vice grip on him. “Hold still. You know the drill.”

He does, unfortunately. This is not his first encounter with silver-tipped weapons. The silver damage stops the wound from healing on its own, even at the rate a human would heal. If left untreated for long enough, and the person doesn’t bleed out, silver poisoning will set in. 

Luckily they have Diedra and her potions. The witch in town, Jade, makes stronger ones but Diedra has been getting better. She wipes his arm off and wraps it tightly with bandages. It’ll take about a week to heal up properly, if he’s lucky, and longer for the scar to fade. 

“Am I good to go?” he asks impatiently. Dave’s little brother has been pushed further into the kitchen and he doesn’t look happy about it. The pain distracted Karkat long enough that his focus slipped on listening to the conversation happening in the hallway.

“You expected me to step into an unknown pack’s territory without proper protection?” The witch says condescendingly. Terezi starts to growl and Karkat stands up, disregarding Diedra and Kankri and stomps past the little rogue and his own Mate to stand in front of Terezi, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Tez, I’m fine,” he says firmly. “It was a small cut and it was my fault in the first place.”

Terezi’s eyes flicker behind her glasses in their distressing way. They don’t glow properly anymore, not since the wolfsbane.

“They’re _rogues_ , Karkat,” she grits out. He expected this from Latula but he should have seen it coming from Terezi, too.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” he insists, grabbing one of her hands and placing it on his arm, over the bandage. “Diedra fixed me up already.”

Terezi snarls but slowly slips out of her transformation. She takes a breath and turns on her heel, moving back to the stairs, and says, “Fine. But I’m telling Vriska.”

Karkat groans; Vriska will never let him hear the end of it when she finds out a fucking eleven year old managed to slice his arm up. Terezi cackles, like the last ten minutes didn’t happen, but Karkat knows he’s going to have to talk to her about this. Or fuck, maybe he should tell his dad and let him handle it. He’d probably do a much better job than Karkat could.

“Fuck off,” he tells Nepeta and Sollux. Sollux gives him the finger but leaves. Nepeta lingers on the railing, giving him a toothy smile. He rolls his eyes at her and says, “Go comfort your sister or something.”

“Sure thing, Karkitty,” she says, leaping from the railing and landing with cat-like grace on the floor. She saunters into the living room and Karkat looks up at the ceiling, silently asking the universe what he ever did to deserve this.

He turns back and a small red blur collides with him instantly. Kankri gives him a tight hug for a short second, then gives him a very put-upon look and heads into the living room as well.

“He’s worried about you,” Diedra says. She’s got her bag over her shoulder and is standing next to the little rogue, who looks up at her with distrust but doesn’t go for his knife. It’s a small relief. “You lost a lot of blood. Which I’m not cleaning up, by the way.”

“I’ll get it,” he tells her, glancing down at the mess on the floor and wincing. He looks down and finds that there are splashes of blood on his clothes as well. He looks at his Mate, pale and anxious, standing in front of his little brother, and sighs. “Why don’t you two head up to your room, Dave? I need to deal with this shit.”

“Three,” the witch interrupts. “Us three. It’ll be a nice little family reunion, won’t it, Dave?”

“Family?” Karkat repeats, glancing between them. They do look shockingly similar, now that he’s paying attention.

“She’s my sister,” Dave says. He runs a hand through his hair and nods. “Yeah, let’s. Go to the bedroom, I guess. We have some catching up to do.”

He doesn’t sound too excited about the prospect, but Karkat holds his tongue while the three of them head upstairs. Dave’s door shuts with a snap and Karkat is left to clean up his own blood splattered on the wooden floor.

-

The first thing that happens when Dave closes the door behind him is that Rose pulls him in for a crushing hug. Then she releases him and shoves him harshly, which is more along the lines of what he was expecting.

“Four years, Dave,” she says, crossing her arms. She’s absolutely furious in a way Dave only ever saw directed at Bro. “Four years and not a single word from you.”

“You left,” he shrugs, like it was that simple. Like he didn’t spend nights camped outside their hotel room door, grinding his teeth with pain, and thinking about how easy it would be to find a library or borrow someone’s phone to contact his sister and beg her to save him. Like he didn’t miss her in a way that was wholly unacceptable for a hunter (a rogue), who has to be dependent only on themself. 

She breathes in harshly and Dave wonders if she’s about to go off, but Dirk pushes her aside and wraps Dave in a hug of his own, making up for the one that was thwarted before by a well meaning Karkat. He buries his face in Dave’s sternum. He’s such a little guy.

“Hey, bud, I’m okay,” Dave says, placing a hand on his head and running it down to his neck, where he gives a light squeeze. This at least is familiar; comforting Dirk is something he knows how to do.

“Were you ever going to tell me you’re a werewolf?” Rose demands sharply, never one to be ignored. “How long ago were you bit?”

Dirk releases him and steps back, but only far enough so that he can sign, ‘What happened to your bracelets?’

He emphasizes this by pointing at the bandages on Dave’s wrist, and Dave’s stomach sinks. Dave never told Dirk what the leather accessories were for, and Dirk, being a child, just accepted it as part of life. Dave didn’t and still doesn’t know how to explain this situation to his little brother, who he wants nothing more than to keep safe. 

He ruffles Dirk’s hair, messing it up as much as he can manage before Dirk gets away, frowning at him indignantly. He looks back up at Rose and says, “Does it matter? We have more important things to talk about. Like how you fought Bro? And won?”

This, apparently, is the wrong thing to say, because Rose bristles.

“Yes it matters,” she snaps, and to his horror he sees that her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “I didn’t know if you were even alive, Dave! You never responded to any of my messages, never called me back, never even sent an email! And now I find out that you’re a werewolf and you’ve still been with our father? What did he do to you? How did you survive?”

Frustration builds inside him. All he’s done lately is talk about Bro. He aches from his head to his feet, he’s exhausted and fatigued and it feels like his brain is running at half capacity. The adrenaline of seeing his little brother surrounded by potential threats is wearing off and he just wants to sleep.

“What did you think would happen, Rose?” he snaps back. “You’d leave and we’d what? Have video calls every week? Pester each other while you forge ahead in the real world as me and Dirk fight monsters to survive?”

Rose flinches back like he slapped her and Dave is instantly filled with regret. The anger that swept through him moments ago flickers out, leaving him more tired than before. He presses his hands to his eyes beneath his shades, leaving afterimages when he drops his arms to his sides and sinks onto the bed. Dirk clambers up next to him, a small, warm comfort at his side. Dave doesn’t deserve it but he soaks up the quiet affection anyway.

“Dave, why did you contact me?” Rose asks. She sounds just as exhausted as he feels. “Your messages were cryptic and no matter how many times I replied you never sent anything more.”

‘Dave doesn’t have a phone,’ Dirk signs helpfully. Understanding flits quickly across Rose’s face and Dave sighs. 

“I needed someone to get Dirk away from Bro, in case I couldn’t,” he admits, looking away so he doesn’t have to see the hurt on her face. Rose was always rebelliously expressive. “I wasn’t sure they’d let me live once I told them about Bro. Didn’t expect you to get here so fast.”

From the corner of his eye he sees her sink into the chair that Karkat usually occupies. Something in the back of his brain wants to growl and snarl at her until she moves, which is super fucking weird and he ignores it the best he can. 

“‘They’ being the pack here, I assume,” Rose says. She runs a hand down the fabric of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. “And, considering the fact that you’re still alive, I think it’s safe to say that your initial worry was unfounded?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he says, frowning. He doesn’t know where she’s going with this and feels like he should be defensive right now. How had he forgotten about Rose’s uncanny ability to make him feel wrong-footed?

“Hmm. And the young man our little brother sliced up down there? How does he play into this?” she continues. A sly smirk dances on her lips and she says, “David, have you perhaps overcome your gay panic while we’ve been apart?”

Oh jesus christ. Blood rushes to his face and he groans. Rose sounds like she just won a years-long argument and fuck if she’s not right. He can’t believe he missed her so fiercely all these years. (He can, he did, he missed her *so much*.)

“He’s uh... Karkat’s my Mate?” Dave replies, voice going up a few octaves. How is it that Rose can still make him feel like a ridiculous teenage boy all over again. He’s supposed to be past this. His sexuality stopped being an issue the moment he was bit, when Bro saw the unique opportunity to use him to weasel out more information from people. It doesn’t even matter, now that he’s out of Bro’s grasp, because he’s pretty sure that their place in the pack is contingent on him being Karkat’s Mate.

Rose’s eyes glint at this information. “Well, congratulations.”

Dirk tugs on his shirt to get his attention and signs ‘What’s a M-A-T-E?’

“Oh, um,” Dave sputters. How is he supposed to explain this? He looks at Rose for help but she only smirks at him, leaning back in her chair and waiting for his answer. He tries to recall Karkat’s explanation. “It’s like a… magic significant other?”

Dirk’s eyebrows raise above his glasses, surprised. ‘You’re dating a _werewolf_?’

“I mean we haven’t really talked about it,” Dave says. “But uh well you've heard of arranged marriages or soulmates or that kind of stuff right? It's kind of like that... its a werewolf magic thing where he smells really g-- I mean, uh, theres like pheromones and shit happening, whatever don’t worry about that part it's not something you'll ever have to deal with so there's no point in me being all TMI about that shit, but basically it makes it so we have to date each other. Not that I don't *want* to date him, obviously like have you seen the guy? Seriously I hit the fuckin jackpot here, but I also don't have a choice about it, maybe? I think?? I actually don't know that much more about it than you at this point but don't worry dude I’ll figure it out, it’s just been so crazy we haven’t had time to talk about anything much. But he’s a really good guy, okay? He won’t hurt you or me or anything, and neither will his family and friends cause they consider us part of the pack now, or at least me, but you're my baby brother so that means you’re safe too. Probably, I hope."

Dirk’s face slowly goes back to its usual neutral expression as Dave stumbles over his words. It can be difficult to tell what he’s thinking but he doesn’t exactly look upset. Dave’s never really talked to him about this stuff, which may have been an oversight. How old are kids supposed to be when they get The Talk? Dave never received it and he’s fine. Does Dirk need it? He’s never shown any interest in girls.

Dirk nods, like he was able to pull anything out of that word vomit. What a trooper. Rose, however, is looking at him with an expression he can’t pin down. It makes him want to shut down, but he’s far too tired to pull on the Strider poker face. 

Dave does his best not to yawn but it rips its way out of him regardless. He sighs. 

“Dave, what happened to you?” Rose asks, voice heavy. Dave looks at her and shakes his head. He’ll give her the whole story, but not while Dirk is here. He doesn’t need to hear about all the shit that was going on under his nose; he’ll just beat himself up over it. And maybe Dave doesn’t want to think about the past right now, when the future is so unclear.

He yawns again and Dirk frowns, just a tiny twitch of his lip. He puts a hand on Dave’s arm and pushes hard, until Dave flops over. 

“Have mercy, dude,” Dave groans, sighing dramatically. Dirk climbs over him and gets settled against the wall, peeking his head up over Dave. He signs something to Rose, who lets out a small laugh and stands.

“I suppose I could nap,” she says, moving to the bed. She shoves Dave closer to the wall and climbs in, throwing an arm across his chest and sighing. “I’ve missed you two.”

Dave’s heart squeezes painfully. He remembers doing this as children, when Dirk was still a toddler. It was usually Dirk sandwiched between them or, before he was born, Dave and Rose curled up around each other, waiting out the night. He didn’t know how much he missed this until it was given back to him.

“Missed you too, Rosie,” he murmurs. He can feel himself drifting off already. He doesn’t want to; he wants to stay up and talk to his sister until he’s wrung out, until she’s picked him apart and seen all the dark, dirty parts of his mind and tells him she loves him anyway. But sleep is weighing down on his eyelids and it’s only a few seconds later that he’s lost to the world.

He wakes up to Dirk’s even breathing tickling his ear. Dave doesn’t try to move, knowing that it will just wake him up. Glancing around the room shows that Rose is nowhere to be seen which is concerning. He loves his sister but he doesn’t need her mucking up the shot he has here. 

Dave tries to disentangle himself gently from Dirk, but sure enough the moment he pulls away Dirk sits upright, orange eyes bouncing around the room as he tries to determine if there’s a threat. When he finds none his eyes land on Dave, questioning. Dave flicks his forehead and passes him his pointy shades, then puts on his own. Rose must have removed them when he passed out earlier.

“Where’s Rose?” Dave asks, stretching sleep from his limbs.

‘She went to talk to the girl who got shot,’ Dirk signs back.

Oh shit, right. Karkat’s friend was shot. He should probably find Karkat and make sure he’s okay. That sounds like something a Mate would do, right? He really needs to try to ask some subtle questions and see what’s expected of him, since no one seems inclined to tell him. He doesn’t *think* he’ll get in trouble if he asks but he’s not willing to risk it.

Before he does that, though, he has to talk to Dirk. He pushes himself into a sitting position and turns to him.

“Okay dude, I’m not gonna ask for your knife because that would be super shitty of me,” Dave says. He’s entirely unarmed right now and it’s definitely not helping with his mental state; he can’t make Dirk go through that too. “But try to keep the stabbing to a minimum, okay? Especially not Karkat; he seriously doesn’t deserve it. Like if there was a list of people who deserve to be stabbed Karkat would probably be at the bottom but somewhere above mother Teresa and shit, you get me? And for the love of god please do not stab the Alpha. He looks like Karkat but older I guess. You’ll see. Can’t miss it. We… If things work out, we might have a shot here, so it’s important we don’t make anyone mad. Okay?”

Dirk nods and the tension in Dave’s shoulders releases. Now he just has to make sure the pack doesn’t try to attack Dirk and everything will be fine.

“What time is it?” he asks, glancing out the window. It’s dark out and Dave has no idea how long he’s been asleep, but he’s hungry again. Not that that means much, considering he’s felt like he was starving since his bracelets came off despite Karkat’s attempts to stuff him full of as much food as possible. 

Dirk shrugs and, at Dave’s raised eyebrow, signs, ‘I left my phone at the motel so Bro can’t track it.’

Ah, that explains it. Dave musses up Dirk’s hair, grinning goofily at the way his little brother instantly gives off an insulted huff. “Good thinking, man.”

That seems to win him back over. He nods in agreement as Dave stretches, hearing his shoulders pop and his spine crack. 

“I’m gonna go see if I can find any food for us,” Dave says. “And figure out what time it is. You stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Dirk frowns severely at this, his mouth a downturned slash across his usually placid face. Dave rolls his eyes behind his shades and pushes him gently towards the bed, ignoring the painful ache doing so creates in his wrist.

“I’ll be fine, dude,” he assures him, and then he’s out the door.

He wonders if he’s missed the time when he’s supposed to put on the medication for his wounds. He’ll have to lock himself in the bathroom or something to do that now that Dirk is here. He doesn’t want Dirk to have to see the gross lines across his wrists and ankles, doesn’t want to have to explain why they’re there. It’s probably selfish; he should probably sit Dirk down and explain. Dirk is eleven now; old enough to understand. But Dave really, really doesn’t want to.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Dave moves towards the stairs. He only makes it a few steps before Karkat appears at the bottom, his usual grumpy expression plastered across his face. When he spots Dave, though, his face lights up and it makes Dave's heart squeeze painfully in his chest. Good or bad pain, he doesn’t know. 

Karkat bounds up the steps, taking them two at a time, and wraps his arm around Dave’s waist in an action that’s slowly becoming normal. 

“Hey, dude,” Dave says, a ghost of a smile twitching onto his face. “How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine,” Karkat replies as he helps Dave carefully down the stairs. “It’ll take a few days to heal because of the silver, and the scar will probably stick around for a month or two, but we got to it almost immediately so there won’t be lasting damage.”

Relief washes over Dave like a tidal wave. Dirk can be fucking brutal when he’s threatened, and Dave’s glad that Karkat will be okay. Only partially because if he wasn’t, Dave and Dirk would surely have hell to pay. Karkat’s a good guy; he doesn’t deserve crazy Striders coming in and fucking up his life.

“Sweet,” Dave says, as Karkat guides him into the kitchen. Dave hears the television on in the living room, laughter drifting through the house. “How’s your friend?”

Karkat sits in the chair across from him, a tired smile on his face. Actually, Karkat looks pretty tired in general, and guilt gnaws at him. It’s been an exhausting few days, and Dave’s been asleep for most of it.

“She’s good,” Karkat says. “Delores removed the bullet really quickly and they got to Jade’s really fucking fast, so she was able to be doused in a potion and stitched up. It’ll take longer for her to heal, though, since the silver was in her system longer.”

Karkat says this like it’s common knowledge and Dave feels like a dunce for not knowing it already. Healing werewolves was never something Bro covered in all his lessons.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry.” The guilt is near overwhelming, though logically it doesn’t make sense. Bro would have attacked regardless of Dave’s presence, and at least she’s alive, thanks to Rose. 

Karkat frowns at him and Dave feels worse. Surely Mates aren’t supposed to make each other worry the way Dave makes Karkat, right? He needs to figure this out pronto.

“Dave, this isn’t your fault,” Karkat says, his voice taking on that serious tone Dave’s heard him use when ordering around his pack. “You're not the one who shot her. Kanaya will be fine; she’s survived worse than this. We all have.”

Dave nods. It’s almost exactly what he was just thinking, but it means more to hear Karkat say it, though it doesn’t soothe his guilt entirely. Karkat watches him carefully a moment more. It’s wild, the way Dave can watch his emotions splay across his features like Karkat doesn’t give a single shit if people know what he’s feeling.

“How did it go with your brother and sister?” Karkat asks, voice lighter. Dave shrugs.

“Rose is pissed at me,” he says. “That’s not surprising since I haven’t talked to her in four years. Dirk is fine. Taking this better than me, at least.”

Karkat’s face does something complicated, scrunching up and then smoothing out, and at the end he looks bewildered. Dave would laugh if he wasn’t confused himself.

“You didn’t talk to your pack for _four_ years?” Karkat asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

“What?” Dave says. “Dude I told you, I don’t have a pack.”

Karkat’s jaw sets stubbornly. “Looked like a pack to me. Small, maybe, but a pack nonetheless.”

Dave shrugs. Could a pack be made of a werewolf, a witch, and an underage rogue hunter? It sounds like the start of a shitty joke, but Karkat seems fairly certain, and he would know better than Dave. 

“Rose ditched before I was bit,” he says. “Got out to go live with her friend who could fake some school records so she could go to college. Me and Dirk stayed behind.”

It’s a simple way to explain what felt like the end of the world to Dave, back then. Rose had been an unshakable pillar of support, and Dave didn’t realize how much he relied on her until she was gone. But he figured it out. He learned how to keep Dirk safe by himself, how to put food on the table and survive hunts without her watching his back. 

Karkat seems troubled and Dave awkwardly reaches out to pat him on the arm.

“It’s fine, dude,” he says. “We talked it out.”

They really, really didn’t, but Karkat has enough to deal with as it is.

“Anyway,” Dave continues, making a useless, vague hand gesture. “What time is it? Dirk needs to eat, I don’t think Rose fed him anything.”

Dave should eat, too, if he wants to follow Diedra’s instructions, but he doesn’t know how to ask for himself. He’s already eaten so much of their food, and the only thanks he’s given is putting them in danger from his Bro. 

“It’s almost ten,” Karkat says, standing up and walking to the fridge. “At night. Does Dirk like pizza? I risked life and limb to save some for him.”

“Dirk loves the shit out of pizza,” Dave says, a smile flickering onto his face. Of course Karkat would save some food for Dirk; he’s a real stand-up guy. It makes something warm unfurl in his chest all the same.

“Are you hungry again yet?” Karkat doesn’t wait for an answer, already pulling out ingredients for what looks to be a baller sandwich. “Do you like ham or turkey?”

“Uh,” says Dave. “Ham?”

Karkat nods, grabs the ham, and puts two pieces of pizza in the microwave while he throws the sandwich together. Dave watches him, eyes roving over his back. Karkat is really fucking broad, wide shouldered and strong. He could probably break Dave in half with barely any effort, if he wanted to. But somehow he’s the least terrifying person in this house.

Karkat’s ears twitch and he turns his head to look at the doorway, then looks back to his sandwich. Dave frowns and looks, too, staring until he sees Dirk peek his head around the wall.

“Hey, dude,” Dave says, waving him in. Dirk enters slowly, cautiously, body purposefully relaxed as he walks to the table, keeping himself facing Karkat. “Get tired of waiting for me?”

Dirk nods as the microwave beeps. 

‘You were taking too long,’ he signs. 

Karkat places the plate of pizza on the table, within arms reach of Dirk but not entering his space.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, signing as he speaks. Dirk’s mouth drops open the slightest bit, surprised.

‘You know sign, too?’ he asks. He looks to Dave in disbelief, who shrugs.

“Everyone in our pack does,” Karkat says, turning back to the counter to finish up Dave’s sandwich. “Meulin’s deaf and Kurloz is mute. You won’t lack for people to talk to here.”

Dave watches the subtle splay of emotion on his brother’s face, familiar guilt crashing over him. Dirk *could* talk, and often did, when Bro was around and demanded it of him, but he preferred to stay quiet and speak with his hands. The average ~~hunter~~ rogue doesn’t know sign language, though, and neither do regular people, so Dirk was only ever really able to talk to Rose and Dave, and then just Dave after she left.

He must have been really fucking lonely.

Karkat places the plate in front of Dave with a pointed look, and Dave is so grateful that this ridiculous person exists that he could kiss him, if his little brother wasn’t in the room and would probably freak out about it. 

“Are you gonna eat?” Karkat asks, glancing at Dirk, who hasn’t touched his pizza.

Dirk hesitates, lifting his hands to sign seriously, ‘I’m sorry I stabbed you,’ before grabbing the pizza and taking a big bite.

Karkat’s eyebrows raise and he glances at Dave. Dave is just as surprised as he is, however, so all he can offer is a shrug.

“Don’t do it again,” Karkat says, sounding a bit out of his depth, then he frowns. “Did you take away his knife?”

Dave pauses, the sandwich halfway to his mouth. Dirk doesn’t stop inhaling his pizza for a second, but Dave can read the sudden tension in his small shoulders.

“No? Of course not,” he says, but the look on Karkat’s face says that this is the wrong answer. “He has to be able to protect himself, dude. What if Bro shows up?”

What if one of the many werewolves around decide to take issue with his little brother trying to join their pack and attack him? Dave doesn’t think it will happen, but Dirk would be fucked. At least with his silver knife he’d have a semblance of a chance.

“Dave,” Karkat says seriously. Why does he only use his name when he’s being serious? It’s going to give Dave a complex. “Dirk. There are children here. You acted out of instinct when you pulled the knife on me and that’s fine; I get it. You were threatened. But what happens if Kankri surprises you? Or Meulin? You could seriously hurt them, or worse.”

‘I won’t do that,’ Dirk signs stubbornly. Karkat’s mouth goes tight and Dave can almost hear him grinding his teeth. These aren’t good signs, and anxiety mounts within him. Is he going to have to protect Dirk from Karkat? That’s not--that wasn’t the deal.

“You _might_ ,” Karkat grits out. “I’ll talk to my dad, see if we can get you a regular knife, for emergencies. But until then, you need to hand it over.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t stand to loom over Dirk or make a move toward him. Dave watches him carefully for any sign of aggression, but beyond the annoyance in his voice and the grinding teeth, Karkat remains entirely noncombative.

Dirk looks at Dave, expression bland. Dave reluctantly nods his head, and Dirk reaches behind him, pulling out the knife and putting it on the table. Karkat nods, gripping the handle carefully, and stands.

“Thank you, Dirk,” he says, and leaves the kitchen.

“Sorry, dude,” Dave says quietly, after Karkat is out of sight. Dirk stares at him as he finishes his pizza, then shrugs. Karkat made good points, but it still doesn’t sit right with Dave that Dirk will be defenseless against a bunch of werewolves who might not want him here. But what can he do? He doubts Karkat is the type to be swayed by sex, and that’s really the only tool at Dave’s disposal.

“Hello, Dave,” Diedra says as she enters the kitchen. She looks tired but she smiles at him nonetheless, then turns her attention to his brother. “And you must be Dirk? It’s nice to meet you.”

She holds her hand out for him to shake. Dirk stares at her, face empty of any emotion, for a long moment. Then he reaches out and shakes her hand firmly. Diedra’s smile grows wider.

“Why don’t you head into the living room, honey? I need to talk to your brother,” she says. “The kids are having a disney marathon. Do you like disney movies?”

Dirk shrugs, glancing at Dave, Dave gives him a nod and Dirk hops out of his chair and heads to the living room without looking back. Diedra takes his seat.

“‘Sup?” Dave asks.

“I wanted to check how you’re doing,” Diedra says, using the same calm, cheery voice she used on Dirk. “It’s been a stressful few days, hasn’t it? How are you holding up?”

Dave shifts awkwardly as he shrugs. He doesn’t have as good of a poker face as his younger brother, which is embarrassing as fuck, but whatever. Diedra looks at him like she can see through him.

“You haven’t been resting,” she gently chides. When Dave opens his mouth to protest she interrupts, “You haven’t been resting *enough*. I told you, Dave, your body is redirecting everything it has to healing. That’s going to exhaust you. Have you been using the salves I gave you?”

Dave nods, then pauses. “I… haven’t done it yet tonight.”

Diedra eyes him, but there’s no scolding. Something tight unwinds in him. He doesn’t know why he cares so much about her disappointment. 

“Make sure you do it tonight,” Diedra says. “And soon.”

She leans back, eyes darting across her face as she folds her hands in her lap. “I hear you and your brother will be joining the pack. That’s very exciting. Do you have any questions?”

Dave perks up. Oh shit yeah, he has questions.

“Can you, uh, explain this whole Mate thing?” he asks. “Like, Karkat says it’s basically werewolf soulmates but. What am I supposed to *do*?”

Diedra’s smile turns sharply amused but Dave is too eager for an explanation to care. He leans forward expectantly. Diedra tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear and takes a moment to think.

“What you and Karkat have is ‘basically werewolf soulmates’, yes,” she says. “Most werewolves don’t have the natural attraction you two do. Generally, when you choose a Mate, it’s like getting married. You’re partners for life. Werewolves rarely take another Mate after theirs die. There are… times… occasionally…”

She clears her throat and Dave’s eyebrows raise. Is she blushing? What’s going on there?

“Well, regardless,” she says. “Sometimes Mates can form sympathetic bonds, where they can feel each other’s stronger emotions.”

Dave nods. Mystic bullshit, got it. That’s all well and good but…

“Okay but I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” he says. Here in this relationship, if it is that. In this pack, in this life. He needs some sort of direction. Dave thought he was a hunter, protecting humans from monsters while making sure he and his brother had enough food to eat, but that’s been ripped away from him. What is he supposed to do now? 

“I suppose you do what you would in any other relationship,” Diedra says. “Support each other. Be someone Karkat can lean on when things are overwhelming, and let him be the same for you. Although if you’re looking for something more solid, to show your affection, there’s always scent marking.”

Dave frowns. “What’s that?”

Diedra smiles at him and it looks a little sad. “Werewolves navigate the world largely by scent. I’m fairly sure your senses have been dulled from the poisoning you’re suffering from, so you likely can’t hear or see or smell like you should. It will hopefully return with time. Werewolves know who belongs to their packs by who carries their scent. We notice how a person smells before we notice their appearance.”

That’s… weird, but sure, okay. Dave remembers being overwhelmed by the different smells and sounds after he was turned. It was torture; he hopes he never has to go back to that. The silver was a sharp, never-ending pain but it made the world bearable. He doesn’t like the thought of being so overstimulated again.

Although he was surrounded by werewolves now. Maybe they could… help him, or something? Karkat might try, at least, if he asked.

“So,” Diedra continues, “It’s important that pack smell like each other. We accomplish this by scent marking. You put your scent on another person, and they put their scent on you. It’s a way of belonging, I suppose.”

She stares into space, lost in thought for a moment, before looking at Dave and offering a small grin. “It’s strange having to explain it. It’s so ingrained in our culture. Would you like me to show you? I’m sure if you asked Karkat he’d be delighted to show you himself.”

Dave’s face flames as Diedra’s smile becomes pointed and teasing. God, everyone here knows that they already boned, huh? Karkat’s _dad_ knows, and that’s fucking humiliating. Is anything kept a secret in a werewolf pack?

“I, uh,” he stutters. What if he’s really awkward when he tries to do it and makes a fool of himself? “Can you do it? Please.”

“Of course,” Diedra agrees instantly. She lifts her arm up and tugs down her sleeve, reaching out with her wrist. Dave sits stock still, feeling out of place and weird as she runs her wrist across one of his cheeks, then his other, and pulls back. “Welcome to the pack, Dave.”

“Is that it?” Dave asks after a moment, blinking in surprise behind his shades. Diedra laughs.

“That’s it,” she confirms. “We carry our scents all over but we usually use hands or wrists to scent mark. If you want to be more _intimate_ ,” she wiggles her eyebrows at him, “you can rub your cheeks together, or touch each other’s necks.”

That sounds awkward as fuck and Dave wonders if he’s being pranked, but Diedra doesn’t laugh or say psych so… Weird cheek rubbing it is, he guesses. Will Karkat like that? That’s what pack does, apparently, and maybe if he and Dirk smell more like pack everyone will chill out.

“Thanks,” he says, uncomfortably sincere. Diedra beams at him, reaching out to pat his hand. 

“Any time, Dave,” she says. “We’re all here for you and Dirk. You’re pack now, and we take care of each other. The kids will calm down, and the hunters will deal with Strider. Everything’s going to be okay.”

It’s really hard to believe that, but Dave tries all the same. He can’t imagine living here, being in one place and not having to hunt down and kill creatures. Could Dirk go to school? Could *Dave*? Well, probably not Dave. He’s too old for that shit, but Dirk would probably thrive with stuff to stimulate his mind. 

“Ah, there’s Karkat,” Diedra says, standing up. “Remember your salves, Dave.”

She leaves as Karkat enters, patting him on the arm. She must have heard him coming; Dave didn’t hear shit. Karkat has a deep frown and a phone in his hand. He opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, sniffing the air.

“You smell like Diedra,” he says. There’s nothing accusatory in his tone but Dave feels weirdly guilty anyway. They’re like, half werewolf married, apparently. Diedra didn’t make it sound like scent marking was only something done between Mates, but he feels like he just got caught cheating.

“Yeah, she was showing me something,” Dave says, keeping his tone bland. Well, now or never, he supposes. “C’mere.”

Dave stands as Karkat approaches him, handsome face drawn into his normal grumpy expression. It’s kind of cute as shit. Dave leans down and Karkat’s dark eyes widen as he presses their cheeks together, nodding his head up and down to rub them against each other. He pulls back and dips forward to do the other cheek, too, and when he straightens up Karkat stares at him, face red and irises swallowed by his pupils.

“Oh,” Karkat says.

Dave smiles crookedly, stomach swooping pleasantly. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever looked at him like this before, and it simultaneously makes him want to preen and hide away. 

Karkat’s gaze remains heavy on him for a moment longer, then he appears to make a decision and steps into Dave’s space, big arms wrapping around Dave’s waist, burying his face in Dave’s neck and breathing him in. His hands come up and touch Dave all over. They aren’t even sexual touches; they’re light and quick and efficient, and it takes Dave probably too long to realize that Karkat is covering him with his scent. 

‘Oh’ is right.

It takes a long time for Karkat to step back; long enough for his scent to invade Dave’s senses, making him feel hazy and relaxed. He wonders how much this shit affects Karkat, since he has all his wolfy senses up and running. Karkat’s smiling when he backs away. It transforms his face and oh, shit, are those dimples? They’re small, but they’re there. Dave is so fucked.

“That’s what Diedra was showing you?” Karkat asks, breaking the silence. He shakes his head fondly. “She’s such a meddling asshole; I would have gotten there eventually.”

“Aw, don’t be jealous, babe,” Dave says, smirking at the blush that darkens Karkat’s cheeks. “What me and D have is beyond normal understanding.” Karkat snorts, rolling his eyes, and Dave’s smirk turns into a grin. “Besides, there are plenty of other things you can show me.”

He wiggles his eyebrows dramatically over his shades as he leans into Karkat’s space and Karkat barks out a loud laugh, putting a hand over Dave’s face and pushing him back.

“Yeah, I’m sure there are,” he rolls his eyes again. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything more because his phone dings, and the amusement slides off his face. Dave is caught off guard by the sudden change.

“I have to talk to you,” Karkat says. Apparently Dave’s face shows his panic. “It’s nothing bad. Well, nothing too bad. Sit down.”

Dave sits. Karkat does as well, reverting back to his grumpy face, little dimples gone from the world.

“The hunters want to meet you,” Karkat says. “My dad explained what’s going on to them. Strider is pretty infamous, and the hunters have apparently been looking for you and your siblings for a long time. So they want to meet you tomorrow. Dirk and Rose, too. Are you okay with that?”

“Dirk and Rose stay here,” Dave says immediately, before he even has time to think. “I’ll meet them, but Dirk and Rose stay out of it.”

There’s no argument. Karkat’s eyes are soft as he nods, and Dave realizes he was expecting a fight. He always has to fight to keep his little brother safe. It’s weird, thinking that someone else--besides Rose--might be willing to help him.

“You don’t have to meet them either, Dave,” Karkat says, giving him an out because he’s probably the best person in the world. Dave is tempted to take it, but he has to know.

“Nah, dude,” he says, trying to sound casual. “I should like, go and see how the other half lives, y’know. Get a real close look at just how far from a real hunter I am. Was.”

“Dave,” Karkat starts, but Dave stands up, cutting him off.

“I wanna do this, Karkat.” He tries to make himself sound sure and firm, and somewhat succeeds. Karkat’s eyes dart over his face before his shoulders slump and he nods.

“Fine,” he says. “But I’m coming with you.”

Oh.

**Author's Note:**

> Character ages because they aren't all stated explicitly in the fic:
> 
> Dave: 20  
> Karkat: 22  
> Dirk: 11  
> Bro: 40
> 
> beta trolls are early/mid 20s, alpha trolls are between 8-13, and the older generation is late 30s-40s.


End file.
